The Good Fight
by MoonpoetessZ
Summary: The Final Battle left memories, one of which is the Boy-Who-Lived. Where has he been for eight years and what happens when he returns? And what is the mysterious group that seems evil but has fought for light? Eventual slash SSHP, mentions suicide
1. As Prologue To

Note- This was begun before HP6 came out. As such, there are significant differences in some facts as relating to cannon. There may come up a few spoilers from Half-blood Prince, but the timeline has mostly veered away from it.

Another note/warning- This chapter is extremely verbose and grandiose, on purpose. Think of it as written in a wizarding tome, one of those kept for people like Hermione to read. The language becomes gentler after this.

Disclaimer- I own naught but the original plot, characters, locals, and spells. Known elements belong to JKR, etc. I mean no infringement on copyrights thereof.

Chapter One - As Prologue To

The blaze of golden light dazed those in witness, as they watched in fearful apprehension the scene unfolding before them. Their worst fear and their greatest hope were swallowed unerringly into the glint, the murmur of incantations the only hint to remaining life of both parties. Not a one could determine who cast what or even what exactly was cast.

Time seemed a standstill, unmoving, as were the combatants surrounding the spectacle. They were as though statues, no longer interested in dueling one another, as their fates were drawn by those unseen.

The light did not dim, but seemed to change consistencies, as various colours swirled into the blinding glow. As the battle within grew in fervor, the shimmers beat in stark contrast to the blood tinted sky. Nature knew the day was not of innocence, knew death loomed and surrounded the horizon, seeking to claim the unwilling in its most macabre embrace.

Dark and light in its most savage glory was unleashed before bloodstained parties. They seemed not to breath, as though that slight movement might somehow turn the tide against their own favour. All in presence knew the victor of this most fatalistic battle would, in very being, guarantee which side would win the day.

That this struggle would come to two enemies in fierce contest was at once inconceivable, and yet, seemed to make perfect sense. The chaos that reigned the well concealed world had found its focal point in the most opposite similar beings in this age, and that power, that strife, was polarizing in their desperate encounter. It was as determined by augury, the two foes were met with each other's force.

Suddenly the torrent intensified, the tone condensing to form a vivid expanse of indeterminate tint. As the glare culminated, the colour transformed into an unforgivable shade of green. The end was fast approaching, and in that heart stopping moment of incognizance, the extemporaneous audience's respiration was bated within their systems.

Time then seemed to jump, its fickle constitution rearing itself to stun the masses, amusing itself in that it alone knew the grim resolution, and was the only thing to be unaffected by it. As quickly as the finale arose, the actualization of its yield was slowly disclosed. The prismatic discharge of hexes faded, a distinctive fog that was burnt away.

A silhouette appeared through the colour in the middle of the gore strewn battlefield. The crimson light bathed the figure's outline, making it as though an obelisk of blood. Awash the wondering people, it made the tension of the air arduous to contend with, as they attempted to make corporeal judgement of the conqueror.

Just as the weary populace of the grounds gained better sight, the last traces of spell residue dissipating, a new light gaining sustenance arose from the ground. A ground that one could now see was littered with the bones of the opponent whose luck did not hold. The beam which showed this gruesome display continued on its steadfast ascent, watched critically by the living adversary. The light it imparted swiftly evinced this person, in all of his battle weary grandeur.

As the incandescence in the form of a sphere came eye level, it burned azure, though through its form it seemed imbued with a black tinged red that sent shivers down the onlookers spines. This ghastly illumination alighted upon the one before it, sending his face into involuntary spotlight. Upon this revealing display, the collective breath was forced from lungs in varying degrees of disbelief, and felicity, or in the case of the fallen's side, anger.

Attention was stolen from the champion abruptly, as the lighted orb in front of him began a fearful spinning, appearing, if one can imagine it, enraged. The dance of light gained strength, and the one before it gained determination. With the first movement seen of the figure, he brought his hands up in what would seem in any other event as a conciliatory gesture. At this moment, it only bid ill for that it was toward.

A glow formed from the hands, a physical manifestation of the being's power, a gold and silver portending of the other light's fate. Stunned, those watching basked in the shine which shown brighter than the blood of the sky. The light magnified as with a swift upward stroke, the man sent a stream of colour to meet the other. They battled for dominance, pulses of radiance shining. Slowly, the gold and silver overcame the reddish blue, sliding over it, encompassing it. This force was not compromising, was not merciful. It would not stop without complete annihilation of its foe.

With a burst of light, shooting sparks throughout the spectators' vision, the drive of power from the standing party inundated the evil of the other, hiding it from view as it crushed in and destroyed it. With a blast of raw power, the sphere appeared to rupture. As the light impossibly brightened, the vanquishing of the soul showed clearly the scar on the victor's forehead.

The resulting shockwave threw its force outwards, sending all within the immediate vicinity back and down. Those not, wished they had been so stunned when the screaming of agony tore through the throats of the marked. Grasping their arms as though attempting to rip them from their joints if only to stop the pain, they fell upon the ground almost as one. None were spared, as the dark bond was wrenched away, leaving nothing but a dead tattoo of a skull as a marker should anyone look. The snake of the mark was gone, into oblivion as was the one who created it.

Those who could, though now few, looked upon the one before them, who even in the middle of the force wave, had remained fully upright. They watched as he gazed at the scattered skeleton of his foe. They saw as he stepped closer to it, bent down and retrieved the wand some knew to be the brother of his own. And they continued looking as he rose staring at it as though seeing being the physical plane through it, and as he took it in both hands. Some were startled at the sharp sound as he snapped it in twain, some were not.

Turning, the young man carefully and, some noticed, painfully, moved towards the foremost group of still standing persons. As he did, Albus Dumbledore stepped towards him, his elderly body and outrageous robes showing the evidence of the battle plainly.

Reaching the headmaster, the victor reached out and handed the broken pieces of the wand that had done so much damage, to the older man. His only words were simple and filled with such emotion as to make it impossible to determine individual feelings.

"It is done. I am done."

With that he turned away, walking a short distance to stand over a defeated body. Leaning down, he gazed at the dull amber eyes of his former mentor, the last one of his parent's best friends. He smoothed back some tawny hair and ran his fingers over the eyes to close them.

"Say hello to Sirius for me, Moony."

Standing and glancing around, he saw the devastation the war had wrought along the once cheerful grounds. The red of the sky having yet to fade cast a morbid look on the land and on the old, powerful, remaining, castle. Glancing up at the time worn battlements of the first place he had felt as home, Harry Potter disapparated.

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A/N: For those reading The Betrayal of Innocence, note that I am continuing that as well as this new one. Updates on both will be posted regularly.

Should you wish a personal response to a review, please include your email address. Feel free to email me, if you so choose, at MoonpoetessZ at yahoo dot com.

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,

_-Zenn_

(**Note** - The warning on the language of this chapter was added after a million complaints as to it. I hope it does nothing to disinterest those who come here.)


	2. In Continuance Of

Chapter Two - In Continuance Of

The wind swept through the silent streets, easing the stillness of the air. A storm gathered over the quiet, the stars hidden behind the accumulating clouds. Through the edges of them, near the horizon, the full moon reflected light, lending credence to the ever old adage of silver linings. Before long, though, the moon too was held captive and the grey sky solidified to a ceiling.

The June heat was stifling, the breeze having ceased in preparation to assist the impending rain in lashing anything left to its mercy. The humidity weighted down the plants of the city, adding a deadened air to the seeming ghost town quality present. Nothing moved, as though movement itself had been forgotten. The night was hard and holding fast, a difficult thing to face for mere mortals, and thus it was left to its privacy.

The streetlights flickered, seemingly to assure the world that it was real and not just a memory preserved in a disregarded photograph. The lamps fought their continual battle with the darkness, never fully able to dispel the gloom from clinging to the items it claimed. The shadows moved across inanimate objects as spectral dancers, an entertaining medium meant for none.

Playing a part of the stage for these incorporeal agents, a lone paper seemed to flutter in the nonexistent draft. A large headline shown out to the empty roads, nothing exciting enough for it to have been remembered by those it had belonged to before the night had banished the living from the outside world.

**'Eighth Anniversary of the Defeat of The-Dark-Lord-Who-Was-Vanquished and Disappearance of He-Who-Vanquished-The-Dark-Lord!'**

Suddenly the air crackled as a crack resounded through the still night. Two swarthy figures materialized just out of reach of the light of the lamps, glancing around their surroundings. Scanning the street, the shorter of the cloaked men read the discarded paper's bold headline.

"Honestly," the man's voice came out rough and soft, as though to preserve the sanctity of the quiet, "can they never use names? They create new titles at an alarming rate."

His companion merely gestured for the other to move before him, the light playing through the shadows to reveal his smirking expression. Tossing his head, the latter moved across the silent street, his comrade following closely behind. They ducked into a shaded alley, turning back to the street. Allowing the shadows to claim their forms, they easily blended into the dark. As though they had never disrupted the quiet, the night returned to its most esoteric existence.

Abruptly the sky lit with a blaze of lightening, streaking a white contrast to the obscured sky. Almost as though nature had announced a warning to the breaking of the silence, the air intensified and snapped with the arrival of more hooded figures. These cloaked forms bothered not to observe the empty streets, but moved deftly towards the darkened buildings, entering the un-welcoming dwelling with a muttered spell. As the intruders disappeared through the door with a squeak of hinges, the concealed men in the alley stepped from their hiding place. They followed the progress of the others into the domicile, closing the door behind them to the night.

As the sky then preceded to fall in pounding torrents, the windows of the intruded upon building lit with an unearthly glow. The green flares beat the influence of the yellow lamps, reflecting on the raindrops and cast a sickly tinge through the street. Screams echoed throughout the night, wrenching the silence apart, fighting the rolling of thunder for dominance. As the evidence of foul play faded from the witness of the empty street, the rain continued to batter the concrete, wind lashing so that if more cries were to ring out that night, none were heard. The two distant cracks from the direction of the disturbed residence registered little.

As suddenly as the storm had unleashed its fury, it once more stilled itself. The night was once more silent, the streets empty. Nothing moved in the dim light and darkened shadows. Even the wind had creased its desperate action. The only evidence of the violence that had occurred upon the street was the draining of water along the gutter. Ink becoming unreadable, a lone newspaper drifted with the current.

Isolated incidents of terror were forgotten as easily as summer storms, till it registered as merely a vague memory in the lives of the masses. No, the interest of the fickle public was centered more on those that had participated, not the why's or how's. Who cared of dates and locations when such amazing events continued to involve unknown, frightening figures. Cloaked men continued to sweep into the night, terror reigned, but as of yet, innocents had been spared. The men themselves were dying, killed by others seemingly of their brotherhood. None could differentiate the good from the evil, for all seemed as though light was not their forte.

Carefully following these events, as few were, the members of those who considered themselves unerringly of the light, watched and speculated as to what exactly was occurring. They could do no more than wonder, as answers were not forthcoming. But they had their hands full, nonetheless, as darkness was again encompassing upon their own lives. The deaths of unknown cloaked assailants, never identified nor claimed by next of kin, fell into the murky depths of oddity, as more pressing concerns reared themselves.

Threats, bribes, deaths, and other methods of evil were once more rampant, as had not been seen in nearly a decade. After so long, the former warriors were in disarray, many of the leaders having changed to those who worked only with experience in peace and were ignorant as to fight anything more than colleagues in business. In such a state, it was easy for swarthy influences to slip in, concealed until it was too late to defend against the barrage. No one knew when the darkness had begun re-appearing in the peace, no one had thought to look.

Again the forces of the light reconvened, working against the present evil, working to just establish what the evil was. Hope was in short supply as more volatile happenings deepened fears. The innocent needed a vanguard, someone it had already relied upon. Would such a person appear, was the thought lurking in the minds of the powerful. Forefronts were often little more than scapegoats, and not many could or would handle such a part.

When an announcement was made as to the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it appeared as though the part had been accepted.

**'New Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor Announced To Be None Other Than The-One-To-Defeat-The-Heir-Of-Slytherin! His Return Hailed As An Omen Of Light!'**


	3. A Precursor In

Chapter Three - A Precursor In

The sun blazed, lighting the sky afire with streaks of orange and gold, creating a show of natural fireworks that went unnoticed by those whose minds were wrapped around other things. Two such people sat in an odd office high in an ancient castle. Dancing objects swirled on tables in spotlight of the day from the glinting windows and portrait occupants visited their neighbors as an elder wizard and a younger witch sat discussing current events.

"Albus, you can't be serious! Having Aurors stationed at the castle will cause a significant panic. And since when have you agreed with the Ministry long enough to allow them influence here?" huffed a rather agitated young woman.

The headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry merely chuckled, garnering a sigh from his companion. The years hadn't much changed Albus Dumbledore, he'd lived long enough that he was quite set in his ways. He was still considered slightly mad by many, highly insane in certain circles, and was still one of the most respected wizards of an age. His taste had also remained the same, as was clearly observed in his flashy magenta robes and lime green wizard cap.

The woman sitting with him was very aware that as peculiar as the man might seem, he was not to be underestimated in any respect, and so was unaffected with his many eccentricities. At the moment she was concerned with his seeming apathetic attitude to her worries. Hermione Granger had a very analytical mind, and quietly sipping her tea and watching her old mentor, was trying to determine just what the man had up his sleeve. Unable to grasp any of it, she once again sighed.

"You would think working for you for six years would give me an idea of what to expect from you, Albus," stated Hermione, resigned to waiting for the headmaster to explain himself.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly and he took a drink of his own tea, smiling at the twirling pattern of dancing couples on the china. He looked at his young professor, seeing the overly curious girl she had been in the lovely features of the woman she was. Both good and difficult times had changed her little, making an intelligent and inquisitive adult. More mature, more intuitive, she was one of his best employees and he had grown to respect her teaching abilities greatly. Not to mention her work in research and for the Order. Thoughts of that organization brought Albus back to the present and the conversation.

"I know it is not precedented, but I feel it necessary in the current situation. Dark activity is steadily increasing and is slipping in so well, it's near impossible to detect until something occurs. I can not risk this school nor the students and staff, whatever my opinion of the Ministry or its capability."

Dumbledore knew his argument well, he had been explaining it to most of his staff for the past week, since the meeting when he had made his announcement. For matters of security, a contingent of Aurors would be housed at the castle. It had not been well received.

"Headmaster . . ."

"Hermione, I understand, but we must do what we must."

Any reply she might of made was effectively cut off when the Floo flared to life. Both the occupants of the room turned towards it, watching as the green flames momentarily danced in the grate before two figures stumbled out. The shorter of the new arrivals tripped and fell against the other, causing the both of them to fall to the floor. Albus and Hermione swiftly rose as they noticed that the others' robes were torn and dirty, and they seemed injured. As they reached them, one spoke in a sharp tone.

"Get off of me, you blasted woman!" Severus Snape sneered angrily.

"Sorry, Sev, I tripped." The green-haired female atop him answered, slightly abashed. She smiled as Albus helped her to rise.

"Honestly, how can an Auror be such a damned menace?" Severus glared hotly as he gained his feet, refusing the hand offered to assist. "And call me Sev once more and no one will find the body."

"Now, now, Severus, Tonks meant no harm. Are either of you badly injured?" When both shook their heads in answer, Albus gestured them to the chairs before his desk. "Then, come sit and tell me what happened."

Sitting back down in his chair and pouring two more conjured cups full of tea, the headmaster signaled for them to begin. Tonks grasped one of the proffered cups, swallowing a giggle at the china, and spoke.

"We went to Knockturn Alley as planned, checking out the shops that the source indicated, and everything was perfectly normal. Then we heard a loud bang a short way down the street. People started running from that direction and we could see smoke issuing from a building. We tried to figure out what was happening, we couldn't very well ask anyone, not down there . . ."

"Get to the point, Nymphadora, I'm certain the headmaster would like to know what happened, _today_." Severus frowned at the Auror, crossing his arms and leaning stiffly against the back of his chair. He hadn't bothered to take any tea, hoping to hurry this along. He wasn't in the mood for niceties, wanting only to get back to his dungeons for a healing potion and a glass of firewhisky, not necessarily in that order.

"I am, _Sev_, if I wasn't getting interrupted while I was talking." At Snape's murderous expression, Tonks hastily continued, "Anyway, we went to see what was going on. As we got nearer, another explosion sounded, this time from down a small alley. Hiding in the shadows we walked into it and got to this open space behind a shop. We heard yelling, and as the smoke cleared, we could see a fight going on.

Some of the men were cloaked, shooting spells against others both hooded and not. I didn't recognize any I saw." When Dumbledore raised an inquiring eyebrow at Severus, he shook his head that he hadn't either. Tonks went on, "We tried to stay out of it at first, but when one of the spells deflected and hit where we were hiding, er, our position was made."

Severus snorted, then sneered, "Made? More like you fell off a step and were seen, I believe."

Glaring sideways at him, Tonks tossed her shoulder length hair, which was still in a green that well matched the headmaster's hat. "Some of the men started shooting spells at us, so we fought back."

"Which of these groups? Or both?" Dumbledore questioned quickly.

"Er, the one that contained some of the uncloaked blokes, not the ones that were all covered."

"I see. These ones that didn't target you, what did they do?"

Tonks shrugged slightly. "They kept fighting the others. They were well outnumbered, but then they started dodging the curses and attacking with muggle weapons."

"There were both firearms and blades," Severus answered before Dumbledore could ask, "and they were very skilled with both."

"Curious. And then what happened?"

"Well, like Severus said, they were very good, but when the others realized what was happening, they changed their methods too. They pulled their own weapons, started sparring and shooting, while still casting some spells." Tonks shook her head. "We were just trying to stay out of the way at that point. They had blocked our escape route and the shop we were behind had anti-apparation wards around it, so we couldn't do that. Well, then another explosion sounded, blasting half of the ones that were attacking us as well. It was pretty gruesome," stated Tonks, shivering slightly and wrinkling her nose. Severus' sneer became more pronounced and he fought the need to roll his eyes.

"I can imagine," Albus muttered. "Please continue."

"After that, the other group pretty much wiped the others out. It was practically a slaughter. Not that I didn't mind them not attacking us anymore, but . . ."

This time, Severus did roll his eyes. "You are an Auror. You fought in a war, and yet you still act like a squeamish innocent." He would have continued had not the headmaster raised his hand and shot a quelling glance in his direction. Snape scowled and shifted carefully in his seat.

Noticing his painful movements, Albus raised a concerned eyebrow at the Potions Master, gaining a sharp glare in return. Shaking his head, Dumbledore gestured for Tonks to continue.

She do so, after a glower at Snape. "Once the one group was down, the other seemed to take their direction from the person in the front of them. They talked for a minute, but I didn't understand it. I think it was Latin or something."

"They asked the man what they should do about us. One suggested memory modification, but they didn't seem inclined to dispose of us in an any more . . . permanent manner." Severus stated casually.

"You know Latin?" Tonks questioned, forgetting her annoyance with the man for a moment.

"Any decent magical person has a basic understanding of the language. I, myself, am fluent."

Tonks narrowed her eyes, but wasn't given time to respond.

"So they weren't attacking you. And they spoke Latin? Odd. Who were they?" The others turned quickly to Hermione as she spoke, having mostly forgotten she had remained in the room. "Do you think they are the ones that have been spotted around? Apparently they aren't very good, but are they evil or not? And how come this happened in the middle of the day, even in Knockturn Alley, that's strange."

Tonks blinked and Severus raised an eyebrow at the young professor. Hermione didn't really notice as she was quite lost in thought. She bit her bottom lip and tried to rationalize the events. Albus chuckled, shocking her back to the present.

"I may have some idea." Albus stated, and smiled at the others' expressions.

"Of course you would." Severus muttered darkly. "Well, pray, do enlighten us."

Now somewhat smirking at his younger friend, Albus explained. "I have been aware of similar events occurring in other locations, following the same type of methods. Cloaked figures, appearing and disappearing swiftly, never leaving one of their own, alive or dead. And never leaving a trace of their identity. Apparently, these people have turned up when there was trouble, always dealing with it quickly and throughly. This has happened in places across the world, and has been going on for quite some time, though only recently have there been reports made in England."

"How do you know this, Albus?" questioned Hermione, still working to grasp it all.

"I have some friends in a few of the locations, and since they told me of it, I have been tracing the reports. I have not yet been able to determine who this group is or what it is working for. But, I have felt it significant enough to watch."

Hermione nodded and sipped her tea, not noticing it was cold. Severus gazed at Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, do you know what this gang sides with? Have you been able to determine if it is a threat, or if it may have something to do with the increase of dark action?"

"Well, I do not think it is a part of the current threat that has arisen. More, it may have been drawn because of it. From all recounts this gang, as you called it, arrives were bad things are occurring and does what they do, so to speak, and leaves once it stops. As to side, well, their methods are notoriously suspicious. But, I will say this, as of yet, there has never been a report of an innocent being harmed by them."

Tonks glanced at Albus. "So, you think they're, well, working for the light?"

"By indication, it seems. But most of the governments have taken a sharp stand against them. As I believe, will our Ministry, should it prove to be this group. They are outlaws and are wanted in a number of countries, both by Muggles and Magic-folk alike. And there are rumours that members of this gang are not all human."

Severus met the blue eyes of the headmaster sharply with his obsidian gaze. "Not human? You don't think some rebel creatures?"

"I am not certain, but the speculation is that it is a mixed group of both creatures and humans."

"Impossible," scoffed Severus. "Magical creatures have no love for humans, and are certainly not going to work with some to assist others."

Albus sighed. "I am aware of that, Severus. I can only offer what I have heard. And the official view is that they are not trying to assist."

"And the unofficial view?" questioned Hermione.

"Is that they are. Most of the public where they have turned up sees them as guardians. They have seen fit to give them a name."

When Albus neglected to continue, Hermione again questioned him. "And they call it what?"

"_Praesidium_."

Severus looked pensive as he translated. "A defense."


	4. In Working Towards

Chapter Four - In Working Towards

Blinding light pierced through the shadowed haze of a concealment spell into the dim light of a stone hallway. Torches burned as miniature replicas of the sun outside, spaced intermittently along the space. The fire flickered across the rock, lending a historic air to the passage, creating surrealism quite matched by the type of beings that frequented the area. They fit well, as many of their ilk were as old as creation.

Hidden by shadow, a pale form leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a scowl half seen upon his face. A twist of the lips briefly exposed a slightly elongated canine, and the light shined on streaks of crimson along the ebony hair as the figure scanned the entranceway. As the spelled shroud rippled to allow entry, sharp blue-black eyes glittered with a subtle tint of vermilion. Remaining in his position, the casual sentry followed the new arrival with his keen gaze, observing silently the cloaked man.

Stalling a near distance to his viewer, the new figure bothered not to remove his hood, merely glancing into the darkness and seeking out the other. Pushing from the stone, the latter moved into the light, revealing his form. Tall and lean, his features sharpened to severity, the Vampyr looked as sin and appeared to revel in it. Clad in tight black trousers pushing the limits of propriety, leather comprised boots and gauntlets, and a blood coloured shirt seeming to flow across his spectral skin, he stood before the other, hair grazing his shoulders as he stilled.

"Carnifex."

The Vampyr inclined his head to his companion. A smirk adorned his face briefly at the name, before settling back to his intense expression. He gazed at the hooded figure before him for a moment, garnering a raised eyebrow from the man. Deliberately ignoring the inquisitive look, Carnifex turned and looked out of the haze covered entrance to the passageway. Before the other could speak, he gave a casual wave in his direction.

"Ateraes. So this is a result of an indirect assault."

A wry grin twisted the man's lips as he shook his head slightly and began heading once more down the hall. The Vampyr moved beside him, joining him in his descent as the floor sloped downward and converted to stairs. The torches along these walls flared to life as they approached, the ones behind them dying in their settings.

"And since when has everything gone to plan, amice?"

As Ateraes spoke, he and his undead companion reached level ground. Instead of raw stone, polished gray marble now shone along the walls and the floor, shining in light from floating candles near the ceiling. Reaching an archway, they left the hallway and walked through to a large room.

"You're bleeding," the Vampyr said, not bothering to glance at the man, "I could smell it the moment you returned. And you look rather vile."

Walking towards a table, Carnifex palmed a vial and tossed it to his associate. With a glare and then a nod of thanks, Ateraes quickly opened and down the concoction quickly, swallowing against the terrible taste.

Vanishing the bottle, he glanced down at himself with a sigh. He flicked his wrist and grasped his wand, retrieving it from the arm sheath he wore. Shrugging out of his torn and burnt outer robes, he repaired them with a muttered spell and set them aside. As he attempted to work out of his shirt, he decided not to bother and disposed of it with a sweep of his wand.

Light scars shown on a lean, muscled torso, a contrast to the tan of the skin. Red gashes inched closed as the potion came into affect, and Ateraes finished cleaning up with a couple more incantations. Walking nearer to his comrade, he sat easily in a chair, leaning back and kicking a leg up to rest on the table. As Carnifex followed suit, the wizard explained the events of earlier, the Vampyr listening in rapt attention.

"Everything was progressing well, the detonations had carried through without hitch. Unfortunately, as we engaged the enemy, two non-hostiles arrived and were soon spotted."

"Bystanders? In Knockturn Alley?" Carnifex questioned, brow furrowing.

"No. Order members."

"Order?" Sitting up abruptly, Carnifex leaned toward his companion. "Order of the Phoenix?"

"No, one of the other Orders around here." Ateraes stated sarcastically.

A low growl issued from the Vampyr, as he rose sharply from his seat and advanced on the man before him.

"We do not have time for your witticisms, you arrogant mortal! Tell me you wiped their memories." At Ateraes' calm negative, Carnifex grabbed the man by the arm. "Are you daft, boy? They could spell our ruin. You should know that! You should have acted against it. If that Order moves against us, there is no way we can continue our . . ."

Carnifex's voiced faltered as his comrade's skin heated under his palm. Suddenly a flare burst from beneath his grip and his hand was consumed in fire. Wrenching away, a cry escaped the Vampyr's lips as the blaze moved up his arm. Tripping over the chair he had previously occupied, he fell painfully to the floor, attempting to still the fire. Vamping out to show his demonic nature, his canines lengthened and his features became sharper. His eyes glinted a vivid red, tinting orange as they reflected the moving flames. Agony shot through him, as it burned through cold flesh and bone. Then, just as it moved to engulf his form, it blazed out with a blinding flash.

Dazed, Carnifex shook his head, grasping at his injured arm. Only it was perfectly whole, as was the shirt covering it, and not a trace of heat remained around him. Glancing up, his eyes locked with the cold emerald gaze of the wizard standing over him.

"Do not attempt to tell me of my actions, _Raphael_." The Vampyr visibly winced at the use of his birth name. Ateraes remained calm, but power issued from his body, casting his face and bare chest into eery light. "If you fear discovery, you may leave. I consider my allies equals, by forget not whom is the commander of this group. I do not follow anyone's order, I gave that up long ago. Should you not view me as either equal or leader, do not remain here and place my people at risk. I do not accept that from associates or friends. Am I understood, Vampyr?"

Shakily rising, demonic features retreating, Carnifex stood before not his comrade and friend, but the commander of the Praesidium. His many years and his plentiful skill as a creature of night did not overrule the other's sheer power and ability. At that moment, Carnifex fully realized the man before him was not to be underestimated. Finding respect in the wizard's leadership, more than that of an equal ally or young friend, the Vampyr rose tall. Fisting his hand, he placed it over his un-beating heart in a sign of honour.

"Yes. Imperator."

Nodding, Ateraes stepped back, righting the fallen chair with a wave of his arm. Sitting heavily, he sighed and ran a hand over his face. He watched the shaken Vampyr warily move nearer and seat himself. Knowing both that he had overreacted and that he had needed to prove himself in the other's eyes, didn't help his already chaotic thoughts. An ache due to that and the expense of such magic as he had preformed that day, claimed place in his head, not to be dispelled by any potion as his other injuries had been.

"Carnifex, I am aware of just what I am doing."

"You are playing with fire, Imperator." The Vampyr may have gained increased respect, but he hadn't survived both mortality and his siring by being less than determined.

"I know that. Amice. But I also know I have a rather great affinity for it." Ateraes looked pointedly at the other, his gaze glancing down to the Vampyr's arm.

Following the gaze, Carnifex asked, "How did you do that?"

"Playing with fire."

Shaking his head, the Vampyr's eyes flicked down then up to lock with the wizard's across from him. "What are you playing at now?"

"A new game. For us, anyway. The rules were developed long past." Ateraes smirked slightly, then again smoothed his palm across his face, trying to will away his headache.

"Was I supposed to understand that, or are you being deliberately obtuse?"

_Damn, he never was one to be submissive long_, Ateraes thought, his lips quirking.

"Carnifex, I'm going back into the wizarding world."

"And now you are mad." The Vampyr stared incredulously at the leader of the Praesidium.

"I am not mad. Well, any more than I ever was, I suppose. I told all of you this plan months ago."

"Yes, after you neglected to discuss it with any of us. You can't be aware of the danger if you are going to do this. Should you get caught, the best you could hope for was a quick Kiss. You can't . . ."

"Raphael."

The Vampyr's jaw snapped shut and he turned his gaze away from his compatriot. Both were silent for a long moment, the only sound the wizard's breath in the stillness. Carnifex turned back to his friend and confederate, studying his face.

"I know why you left, and I know you as well as most. What I don't understand is why you wish to return to a world that nearly broke you. Especially under such a ruse and in such peril."

"Because I must."

"But under the Order's awareness?" Carnifex stopped for a moment, simply watching the other. "In Albus Dumbledore's home field?"

"You forget. It was once my home field as well. I can use that, Carnifex. My plan will allow me much, they will accept what I feed them. And I won't be alone, remember another of our ranks will be there."

"Oh, yes, that one. Someone that must remain hidden as though you haven't known them for these past years. A few of the past years, anyway." A sneer turned the Vampyr's lips.

"Don't start on that again, I trust them to have my back. It doesn't matter that the familiarity must be secret." Ateraes smiled a wry smile. "I will be so overwhelmed by the results of my return and story, that I doubt I'd have time to notice the operative, at any rate."

"Of course, the return of the prodigal prodigy of the wizarding world."

"I've been called worse." Another smile, this time slightly truer.

The Vampyr grinned at his leader and comrade in arms. "I'm sure they will think of more. Now, eight years is a long time. Will you even recall your birth name when needed?"

"That is one thing I will never be allowed to forget. It's a symbol, and now I'm going to use it, instead of it allowing me to be used. I'm returning to the home of my past, but this time I'm the manipulator."

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Thank you to all reading and those that reviewed, both this and my other story -The Betrayel of Innocence.  
-Zenn

Ateraes derived from: Ater - black, dark

Carnifex derived from: Carnificis - an executioner, hangman, murderer, tormentor, scoundrel

Imperator (-oris) - a commander, leader, chief

Amice (-i) - a friend


	5. An Act For

Chapter Five - An Act For

The sun was just breaking the horizon, bathing the Black Forest in crimson light, but many residents of the still mostly quiet castle had been awake for much of the night. It is said that a red dawn is the result of a bloody night, and this was no exception. The battle that had gone on was the most direct and disastrous yet, claiming many lives from both sides of the conflict. The Ministry crews were still cleaning the grounds of the fight, which had been a small village some distance from England's eastern coast. The Order members had returned to Hogwarts, some carrying wounded others, having determined that St. Mungos was not well enough secure.

"Thank you, Poppy," said a tired Albus Dumbledore, as he watched her and her assistants caring for their charges. "Please inform me if there are any problems, and on any changes of condition. I believe I will be needed in my office." With that he turned and left the slightly chaotic hospital wing.

Upon reaching his office, having taken up the winding stairs with a muttered 'Blood Pops', Albus heaved a steadying sigh and pushed open the door. Immediately he was barraged with a stream of indecipherable blather from various officials within the room. Ignoring the noise for a moment, the headmaster walked in serenely, patted Fawkes, and made his way to his desk. This type of attitude typically worked to disabuse people of the thought that he retained his sanity, and so shut them up, but alas, it seemed most present were familiar with it. Realizing that, Albus sat down and gazed at the wizards and witches before him, many of whom were still speaking.

"Quiet, now, one at a time. Honestly," snapped Professor McGonagall. "Quiet! Would you please . . ."

"Silence, at once!" snarled Severus Snape, when the crowd no more listened to his colleague than they quieted at the headmaster's antics. The others' voices stilled, though several people sent the Potions Master nervous glances. Severus smirked.

"Thank you, Severus, Minerva." Albus smiled his usual cheerful grin. "Well, Minister, other members of the Ministry, I understand you have some questions as to the night's occurrences. Now, one at a time."

"Dumbledore, I want to know what happened." Fudge exclaimed, waving a finger in the air in a distracted manner. "Many an Auror is in St. Mungos right now! I have to know what put them there."

"Now, now, Cornelius. I myself am not all together certain as to everything that transpired. The Order's part was as simple as the Aurors'. We engaged the enemy, after having been warned of a raid on that village." Albus twinkled at the Minister, though to some it appeared forced.

"I know all of that, Albus! You know what I am talking about! Where were the villagers? The town was deserted! You must have some idea as to that."

Albus sighed, "You know I do not, Cornelius. We merely received the warning about an attack and when we arrived, the enemy was there, seeming as stunned as we were. And before you ask again, no we do not know who sent the message."

Fudge glanced around, appearing to stall for a moment. Then to gain some time, stated, "Enemy, Dumbledore? Don't you mean Death Eaters?"

"Minister Fudge, I have given you my position on that. While some may have been Voldemort's followers, he was completely vanquished, as well you know, so therefore, they are no longer under that title."

"And what would you have us call them? The Mysterious Cloaked Men?" Fudge intoned darkly. Albus ignored the nearly desperate statement, as another voice spoke up.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, why would a warning message be sent to you and not to the Ministry? The Aurors are the proper law enforcement." stated a somewhat affronted red haired man.

"I am aware of that, Mr. Weasley, but the individual was apparently aware of the Order, and decided we should receive the message. Or perhaps we were the easier of the options to reach." Albus said, privately thinking it had more to do with not wishing to deal with the Ministry itself. That, or maybe figuring the Order was more likely to actually do something about it.

Percy Weasley pressed his lips in a hard line, hearing the unspoken statements. When the leader of the Order did nothing but gaze at him, he turned to the Minister in frustration.

"Minister, it is apparent that we are not going to learn anymore, so do you feel we should return to the Ministry?"

Glancing at the other officials surrounding him, and then back towards Dumbledore, Fudge nodded. "Yes, yes, Weasley. We need to speak to the media and allay concerns the public may have. Let us go." Turning to the headmaster, he inclined his head in curt acknowledgement. "Dumbledore."

"Cornelius, you can not allay all concern of what is happening, not when there is significant reason to be worried."

The Minister only nodded once more and Flooed out of the office, followed by his colleagues and lackeys. When they were gone, Albus sighed and accepted a headache draught the Potions master was now offering. Closing his eyes warily, the headmaster downed the contents of the vial and set it on his desk. He smoothed his beard with one hand and opened his eyes, looking at his younger associates. Both looked as tired and battle weary as he felt, as they leaned against the edge of his desk.

"Well, now that's over, time to start the day. If we didn't have that staff meeting today, I would tell you both to go get some sleep." Albus rose and took out his wand, righting his robes and casting a quick refreshing charm over himself. Snape and McGonagall followed suit, Severus scowling slightly.

"Come now, Headmaster, you set these damned meetings, don't tell me you can't postpone this one. What is so important about today's?" Severus questioned, nonetheless trailing after Albus as he made for the door.

Dumbledore just smiled, the twinkle in his eye returning as he held the door for his comrades. The Potions master glanced at the deputy headmistress, now somewhat apprehensive as to what may yet happen. Minerva smiled, but shook her head to tell him she had no idea and led the way from the office. The two wizards followed, Albus closing the door to a trill from the phoenix inside.

Once the three professors had reached the staff room, they found most of the rest of the faculty already within. They quickly walked in and found their usual places: Albus and Minerva near the front, framed by the large bright window blazing with the morning sun, and Severus near the back and seemingly in near distance to the door, standing as though poised for escape. He never did enjoy these staff get-together's. He nodded a greeting at the new Arithmancy professor, his own godson, Draco Malfoy. After a moment the room quieted and all turned their attention to the headmaster.

"Good Morning, everyone. I do apologize for being late, we were somewhat indisposed." stated Albus, smiling. Those that knew about the night's events chuckled wryly. "Now as you know, this meeting is not one of our usual ones. I called it instead because I felt it would be best."

"Best for what, Headmaster?" Hermione questioned, wincing slightly as she turned her bandaged neck.

"Well, to . . ." Albus was cut off as a knock sounded at the door. He continued as he flicked his wand at the door to allow entry. "To greet our newest addition. I believe you are acquainted with our new Defense professor?" With that, the door swung open and a man strode inside.

As the room's occupants stilled in shock, Harry Potter stepped towards the main table, slinging back his cape to reveal his form. Half of the professor's mouths gaped at the man before them, who appeared completely at ease. He stood grinning jauntily at them, clothed in very classically cut robes in a shade of brightest teal. The outer layer was slightly open revealing matching trousers and shirt, the latter of which was only half buttoned. Around his neck hung a chain of what appeared to be platinum and on his head, perched at a rogue-ish angle, was a wizard's cap, lined along the brim with matching metal. As he nodded his head in greeting and swept up to the headmaster, the others could see he had his hair secured with a band at the nape of his neck, and his wand was attached to his hip.

"Headmaster Dumbledore! What a pleasure to see you again," Harry drawled, pulling off white gloves and tucking them in to his robes. That done, he reached out a hand and shook Albus', seemingly indifferent to the slightly startled look on everyone's faces.

"Harry? Harry, well, it's wonderful to," Albus cleared his throat, "to see you, my boy."

Another toothy grin from the younger wizard met this statement, as he stepped back to allow the headmaster to stand. As his old mentor clapped a hand on his shoulder, Harry nodded and glanced around at the others in the room. Hermione looked very pale, little better than the red headed man next to her, gripping her hand. Both she and Ron Weasley stood and moved nearer to their old friend.

" . . . Harry? Oh, Merlin, I . . ." Hermione's vocabulary had diminished in shock.

Harry swept off his hat, and smiled slightly at her. "I seem to remember that nothing could render you speechless."

"Things change in eight years." Ron stated in a tone somewhat sharper than he had meant to use.

"Indeed they do, Ron. But it is certainly good to see both of you again." Harry glanced away for a split second, before again meeting the other wizard's eye.

The silence stretched awkwardly for a moment, before Harry once more grinned and took Hermione's hand. Looking at her with a sparkling green gaze, no longer concealed behind glasses, he bowed gallantly and placed a quick kiss to her knuckles. She blushed, much to everyone else's amusement, and he released her hand and straightened smirking. Letting out a small laugh, Hermione stepped forward and hugged him, quickly followed by Ron.

Stepping back, Hermione found her voice. "Harry. I can't believe it. Where have you been?"

Shrugging an elegant shoulder, Harry waved a careless hand, and glanced around once more. "Oh, here and there. Some excellent places- New York, Paris, Milan- you know, just traveling. Not doing much of consequence." With a grin at the other members of the faculty as well, he finished, "It was quite entertaining."

"Entertaining?" Ron questioned incredulously. "You barely kept in touch, at all. Yet you just traveled and did nothing?"

"Oh, I didn't do nothing, Ron, just nothing of consequence." Harry's grin widened and he swung back to the headmaster. His cape flared briefly, before settling back along the material of his robes. "Then Headmaster Dumbledore sent me a message, requesting my presence as the new Defense professor, and how could I say no?" Harry bowed slightly in deference, then rose and replaced his hat upon his perfectly styled hair.

Albus chuckled a little, though he, like the others, were partly off-guard. However, even the flippant attitude of Harry's didn't stop the rest of the staff from welcoming home the returning hero. After many greetings and exclamations, along with promises to meet later to rehash, the staff room slowly emptied. As both Snape and Malfoy attempted to slip out with the parting groups, the latter complaining that no meeting had been held when he had arrived, Albus waved them over. Severus scowled, wondering if he could pretend to have not seen the gesture. Unfortunately, Draco grabbed his arm and wrenched him forward.

"If I have to greet the Returning Golden Boy, I am not doing it alone." the younger wizard hissed in Severus' ear.

As they reached the remaining small group, Severus tried to lessen his sneer. Looking Potter up and down, he decided not to bother and allowed his lip to curl. Potter just smiled winsomely at him, appearing too daft to notice Snape's expression. That expression modified to disgust as the younger wizard tipped his hat in fanciful formality.

"Professor Snape. How nice to see you well, I'm sure." Harry stated mildly. "And you, Malfoy. I had heard you were here now. What have you been teaching, Ancient Runes?"

Draco raised an eyebrow and sneered, "Arithmancy. I believe your old friend Granger is the Ancient Runes professor, isn't that right? And this is my first year, as it is your's, Potter."

Harry threw out his hands in a mocking gesture. "I heartily apologize, _Professor Malfoy_."

Draco glared, then turned on his heel and left the room. Snape curtly nodded to Potter and made to follow his godson, but the headmaster stopped his escape.

"Severus, if you would, I had hoped that you would join us in my office. There are a couple of things I wished to discuss with Harry here and I would like your help." Albus smiled innocently as Severus' eyes glinted pure venom.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, what is this about, may I ask?" Harry inquired, glancing at the cuff of his robes and not appearing to care a whit.

"First, Harry, I must insist you call me Albus. You are a professor now." Albus smiled, as Harry nodded at him. "Now what I wish to talk about, is the current state of things."

Harry arched a careless eyebrow. "The state of things? What ever do you mean? Oh, are you speaking of those dreadful attacks around England. Most distressing. But I don't see how it concerns me." The others glanced at each other. "I see. Because I fought Voldemort. Well," Harry said, now stifling a yawn, "I'm afraid I don't have anything to do with fighting anymore. Gave that up a long time ago. Much too dangerous, when life could be filled with more pleasurable pursuits." He grinned at the others.

Albus blinked and glanced at Minerva, as Ron and Hermione stared shell-shocked. Appearing not to notice, Harry again fiddled with his cuff, pulling the material a little. Snape studied him, sneer intensifying as he caught sight of silken lace at the edge of the younger wizard's sleeve. When Harry finally looked back up and raised an eyebrow at his now colleagues, Severus decided he'd had enough.

"Well, Albus, doesn't look like you'll be needing me after all. No sense bothering Mr. Potter with disturbing details that might damage his constitution." Snape silkily managed, though he had a mind to berate both the headmaster and his new appointment quite extensively. Turning to look at Dumbledore and ignoring Potter's wounded toss of the head, Severus continued. "You might wish to have someone show," he leveled a glance at Potter's expensive clothes, "the _dandy_ to his rooms, lest he muss his appearance getting lost. Oh, and _welcome home_, Mr. Potter."

Before anyone could speak, Severus spun around and stalked from the room in an imposing cloud of black robes. Harry stared after him, crossing his arms across his chest, then turned back to the others. Both Ron and Hermione didn't meet his eye and fidgeted slightly. McGonagall appeared to be containing a smile, as Albus gazed between the door and Harry.

Finally he smiled and addressed the newest of his staff. "Pay no mind, Harry, you remember how Severus can be."

Harry gazed at the headmaster for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders, upsetting his cape once more. "No matter."

Albus nodded and glanced at the others. Their smiles seemed slightly less genuine than usual, but Harry seemed not to notice.

"Now Harry," Dumbledore stated, "I would still like you to come speak with me in my office, if you wouldn't mind."

"Certainly, Albus. My pleasure." With another airy grin, Harry swept from the room, his cape billowing behind him.

The others in the staff lounge glanced at one another, then moved to join him. They walked through the hall to the corner where Harry was waiting and appeared to be searching for something in his robes. He looked up at them, still with his charming grin, then continued perusing his pockets.

"Lose something, Harry?" Hermione asked, her speech a little hesitating.

"As a matter of fact, it appears so. I must of dropped it in the lounge." Harry nodded and walked back to the room, calling over his shoulder, "I'll just go get it, I'll be a short moment." He held up a hand, before disappearing into the staff lounge.

Harry quickly strode across the now deserted room and retrieved the glove that had fallen from his pocket. As he made to turn and go to the others, his gaze caught sight of the window. Taking a step towards it, he then stilled, taking in the view of Hogwarts' grounds and the forest in the distance. All trace of flippancy had removed from his features, the glint in his eye hardening, as he studied the familiar images.

With a smile that barely appeared more than a frown, he sighed. "Welcome home, indeed."

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A/N: Thank you to all reading! Hope you enjoy all the upcoming parts!

Just a note to a reviewer, though I don't typically do this, and I promise not to again.

pi - Thank you for your information on my Latin terms, I'm doing my best and I don't mind corrections. Feel free to email me or leave your email.  
-Zenn  
Moonpoetess03 at yahoo dot com


	6. For Warning Of

Chapter Six - For Warning Of

Harry had rejoined the other staff members of Hogwarts in the hallway, and they made haste to Albus' office. They didn't seem to know anything to say, and Harry just smiled blankly at them, so the walk was silent. Harry noticed that both Ron and Hermione kept shooting odd glances at him, apparently trying to determine how to handle him. He ignored the looks and continued after the headmaster, taking in all the sights he had left so long ago.

The group drew up to the stone guardian, and with a quick password, ascended the revolving staircase. As they entered the office, a trill sounded from a perch near the desk. The large phoenix rose his head, staring at the humans. Harry looked at the bird, a very small genuine smile gracing his lips, before he again flashed his winsome grin. Albus glanced between Fawkes and Harry for a moment, then gestured his staff to chairs before his desk. Harry flung his cape out and elegantly sprawled into one of the seats, crossing his legs and watching the others sit.

After conjuring tea, Albus finally broke the silence. "Well, Harry, how have you been?"

"Oh, quite well, I must say. Too well, perhaps." Harry added cheekily, and winked in Hermione's direction. She blinked at him, then glanced at Ron, who was looking very unsettled as he sat next to Harry.

Dumbledore sipped his tea, gazing at Harry over his half moon spectacles. Harry allowed the shrewd look to pierce into his own green eyes, serenely stirring a spoon in his cup that he held propped on his knee.

"I am sure we would love to hear of your adventures, my boy," the headmaster stated, ignoring the tightening of his deputy's lips.

"Albus, my good man, I am sure calling my travels adventures is a great exaggeration," Harry chuckled. "All I really did was throw myself into many pursuits- arts, music, literature. All very enjoyable. And of course, I do like enjoying myself." Another wink accompanied this.

Ron looked vaguely ill at the end of Harry's explanation, and seemed as though he was fighting the urge to run. On his other side, Hermione was still working through disbelief and shock, and next to her, McGonagall sat with a stony expression. Dumbledore merely held out a tin of candy, out of which Harry accepted a piece.

"Did you know that many types of sweets are used for inspiration in art and design?" Harry asked, popping the peppermint into his mouth. "Very interesting things can be created merely looking at other objects. Take this mint for example- just the colors can be arranged onto clothes, furniture, decor. Simply intriguing."

"Indeed," Albus replied, as Ron made a slightly strangled noise in his throat.

"Are you quite alright, Ron? Perhaps you should take a drink of your tea." Harry raised his own cup and gestured to Ron's. Then he rose it higher, seeing the pattern. "Oh, look. Isn't that cute? The little flowers on the china swirl as the liquid moves. How marvelous."

Ron closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Not bothering to answer, he instead addressed the headmaster. "Albus, wasn't there something you wanted to talk about?" He attempted to keep his expression neutral.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, of course." Dumbledore glanced at Ron, then turned back to Harry. "Now, Harry, I know you might not wish to discuss the happenings of late, but I . . ."

Harry held up a hand, sighing slightly in annoyance. "Albus, I already said I wished nothing to do with this. I mean, it is not my fight."

"Harry. This fight is all of ours."

"No, I have done my fight. I gave up any more, and I do not plan on doing any. You asked me to teach, and that is what I am here for." Harry stifled a yawn, then smiled at the headmaster. "Albus, I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do. I am no warrior, not at all. If you would rather I leave . . ." He made to stand, then stilled as Dumbledore rose a quick hand.

"No, my boy, I don't wish for you to go. But you must understand, this is a dangerous situation."

"Then perhaps I should go. I would not like to find myself in danger." Harry shuddered slightly.

"Harry, no, I merely want . . ." Albus was abruptly cut off as Fawkes gave a quick chirp and disappeared in a burst of fire.

The occupants of the office turned to the now empty perch, then glanced at one another. Minerva caught Albus' eye and he nodded at her. Both Ron and Hermione looked at them, clearly not understanding.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Does he do that often? Must be most disrupting. Seems like it would startle one quite unnecessarily."

Ron took another deep breath and turned a sharp look on his old friend. "This is crazy. What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!"

"What _do_ you mean?" Harry asked haughtily.

Before Ron could reply, Fawkes suddenly reappeared with another flame. He flew over to the headmaster and dropped a scroll of parchment on the desk, before returning to his post. Albus opened and read the missive, his face betraying none of the contents.

When he finally looked up, he locked eyes with Minerva. He nodded and she walked over to the fireplace. He then looked over the others. "Well, Harry, since it seems as though I am needed elsewhere, we'll have to continue this at a later time."

Harry nodded amicably, and rose to his feet. "What ever you wish, headmaster. Til later, then." Harry tipped his hat in farewell.

Albus smiled, though it was noted that it was rather forced. "Harry, why doesn't Fawkes show you to your chambers?" Dumbledore then turned to the others. "Ron, Hermione, if you would, your presence is requested."

They nodded and stood as well. Ron walked over to the fireplace, next to McGonagall, ignoring Harry as he passed him. Hermione flashed a slight apologetic smile, though her expression was as forced as the headmaster's. Harry grinned, and touched the brim of his hat. Then turning with a swirl of teal, he followed the phoenix to the door, which opened of its own accord. As it closed behind them, he gestured for the bird to wait on his arm, which it did with no hesitation. Harry blocked his magical signature, so as not to give himself away, leaned nearer the door and stilled.

Inside, Albus addressed the remaining staff members. "We have again received another warning. In the same manner as the other, written much the same. A village, this time in northern England, is supposedly going to be raided."

"Do we listen to it, Albus?" Minerva asked in a clipped voice. "We don't even know who sent it."

"This time we do, Minerva. It was signed with a crest of a crossed wand and sword."

"That would mean defense, I believe. Albus?" Hermione sounded a little disconcerted.

"Yes, my dear. I would say that the Praesidium have indeed made themselves known."

"What do we do?" Ron's question was quiet and muffled, as though he must be facing away from the door.

"Let us confer with the other Order members in Grimmauld Place. If we do decide to act, we must hurry. Come." With that, the Floo sounded, and various voices called out their destination in rapid succession.

Harry nodded and moved from the door, allowing Fawkes to go ahead once more. He followed quietly through the labyrinth of hallways, keeping his grin on his face, and his walk jaunty. As they reached the third floor, and the concealed entrance to the chambers that were now his own, he was hit with memories. Walking into the bare room, he could distinctly remember talking with Remus, when the werewolf had again been allowed as DADA professor in Harry's seventh year. Harry sighed, and moved onto the middle of the floor.

He took a deep breath, and spread his arms wide with his palms up. Chanting quietly, a light silver rose from his hands, spiraling into a sphere. They intensified in colour and movement, then shot upwards, melding together. With another word, the light burst outwards, running over and through the walls. As the colour faded, Harry lowered his arms and threw off his hat and over-robe to puddle on the floor.

"I never did like manipulating wards. At least they remembered me, made it easier," he muttered, then turned to the phoenix, who sat on the mantel.

"Fawkes, thank you for your discretion. Were you any other type of bird, I might wonder at your intelligence." Fawkes chirped and ruffled his feathers.

Harry smiled and looked once more around the room. He strode into the bedroom, that, like the sitting room, was devoid of furniture. Figuring the house-elves hadn't gotten to placing things in yet, he did notice that they had at least brought his bags in. Quickly he walked to his only magically locked trunk, and releasing it, opened the lid. He ruffled through various items, before pulling out a yellowed piece of parchment and a silvery sheet of material. A bitter smile flitted across his lips, then he shut the trunk and walked back to the sitting room. As he did so, he pulled out another, newer, bit of paper and held it out to the phoenix.

"Fawkes, would you please give this to my associate? I'm sure you know the one."

The great bird let out another bit of song, rose from his position, and snatching the paper, disappeared in fire. Harry opened his other parchment, and with a couple words, looked at a map. Sliding the invisibility cloak over himself, he left his chambers through the secreted entrance. He walked across a number of hallways, remaining on the same floor, until he reached a statue of a one-eyed witch. He quickly opened up the passage way and stepped inside, finding the fit much tighter than he had when he had been a young teenager.

Stooping so not to hit his head, after he reached the ground, he flicked his wand and muttered a spell. Slowly the walls and ceiling of the passageway widened and pulled to make the space wider. Once sufficient in size, he moved back to the entrance, watching the map carefully. A figure drew nearer to the hidden way and Harry flicked his wand, pulling the cloaked person into the small chamber.

Once the form regained footing, it straightened, revealing itself to be male by the breadth of the shoulders. He didn't bother removing the hood in the darkness, but watched as the opening closed. Harry cast a silencing charm and a lighting charm, and the man didn't even bother to appear surprised by the words of an invisible person.

Harry moved away from the entrance, finally removing his invisibility cloak, and addressed the man before him. "Hello, Suralc."

"Ateraes," the man replied, nodding his head in greeting. "Are things well?"

"As ever, amice. The order has received the newest warning," Harry stated. "We shall see if they heed it. They seem to dislike the taking of what they see as orders."

Suralc snorted. "Of course. They always have chafed at that notion. I am certain you are well aware of that."

Harry smirked, and nodded. Then he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "You seem to be doing well here. Still no problems?"

"Of course not, _Imperator_."

"How you can always make that sound snide, I'll never know." Harry muttered, shooting a quick glare at his comrade. "Anyway, things are moving quite well, on my end."

"Oh, yes. And may I exclaim, Bravo! An award winning show. I found myself quite disgusted with you." In the dim light, Harry could make out the smirking quirk of lips under the other's hood.

Harry growled lightly, then said askance, "I knew I should have had someone else here, instead of you."

"Now that sounds like Carnifex. That vampyr will never trust me." Suralc brushed dust from his sleeve and shifted most of his weight to one foot. "Though, how you can trust him. He's one of the worst. I'm surprised he hasn't sired you yet."

Harry turned a fierce scowl on the other wizard. "I would hold my tongue, Suralc. Carnifex saved me eight years ago, and I trust him with my life. And you know, he says I am a fool to have confidence in you. You have only been one of us for four years."

Suralc straightened indignantly. "Do you not trust me, Ateraes?!"

"Of course I trust you, you daft imbecile. We would not be here if I did not. You know that." Harry sighed and shook his head. "If I listened to the two of you, not only would I fall to insanity, I would have to watch for knives aiming for my back and teeth for my neck."

"You have to worry about that, anyway." Suralc replied brazenly.

"_Regardless_, cease your blasted concerns." Harry stated, with a sharp inflection. "Now, I need you to keep your watch. We must move carefully, should we wish to achieve what we need to. Contact me should you have reason to, as I will you. The others are continuing with things outside of the school. Hopefully I can get inside the Order, we shall see. Now if we meet again here, tap the statue and say 'Dissendium'. It leads to Honeydukes' cellar."

Suralc nodded, and looked at Harry. "How do you know of this passage?"

"Methods of marauding."

The cloaked wizard tossed his head. "Was I supposed to understand that?"

"No. Now, let us go back to the stage." Harry reached down for his cloak.

Chuckling, Suralc stopped him. "Hold it, Ateraes. I have something I thought you could use." He pulled a book from the inside of his robes and held it out to his companion.

Harry took the novel and glanced at the cover. "Very clever. But I am no noble hero, amice."

"As I very well know. But I did think it humourous." Suralc gave a parting smirk and pulled his hood more securely over his face. "Farewell, Ateraes."

"And you, Suralc. Break a leg."

Suralc merely shook his head and went back out the doorway. As the statue slid to conceal the opening once more, Harry glanced down again at the book, a smirking smile pulling his lips.

The cover was black leather, with gold lettering. The title read, Zorro.

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A/N: Thank you for reviewing, and for just reading. Hope you're enjoying.

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,  
-Zenn

Suralc derived from: Clarus - light, clarity, brightness, or (in regards to reputation) _notorious_.


	7. At Starting In

Chapter Seven - At Starting In

The next several days passed in a flurry of activity at Hogwarts, everyone on the staff preparing for the return of the students. Those who were a part of the Order of the Phoenix found themselves concentrating more on that than the attacks. No one had been killed in the last battle, which they had decided to go to because of the warning delivered to Dumbledore, though it had looked like they were losing at the time. None could figure just when the tide had turned in their favour, or what happened to change it at all. The Order's leader and the few others that were near a certain building were hesitant to mention the burned symbol of a crossed sword and wand on the wooden wall of the dwelling. It was finally brought up at a meeting of the Order, nearly a week after its appearance.

". . . and then this burned image was on the wall. It was the same as the one on the parchment," related Ron, gesturing toward a file which contained the few warnings the Order had received.

"Are we sure it's this Praesidium you spoke of, Albus?" Minerva questioned from next to the headmaster, shifting in her seat to look at him.

Albus sighed. "I believe so, Minerva. According to the several associates who told me of them, this is the symbol found where they have been. One of the reasons they were dubbed 'a defense', apparently."

"Do we have any idea if they are a threat?" asked Arthur Weasley, his hand covering his wife's, who looked apprehensively toward Dumbledore.

"No, we do not." Albus ran a hand down his beard, gazing at the room at large. "But I have reason to believe they are not, at least to the general public. There have never been reports of them harming innocents in any way."

"That is no guarantee, headmaster," Severus Snape quietly stated. "I'm sure you recall that even Voldemort was surreptitious in his assaults in the beginning."

No one in the room shuddered, not any longer, but the mood did grow darker. The lack of information was not making any of them rest easily. It wasn't just the Praesidium that made them nervous, but the continuing threat of dark forces that kept increasing. As inept as it was, even the Ministry was taking action more assertively than usual.

The headmaster nodded. "Yes, but this group has not been clandestine in the least. Just yesterday, fifteen corpses of former Death Eaters were dropped at the Ministry entrance. This symbol was cut into their skin." Albus lifted the edge of the paper upon which it was drawn.

Murmuring broke out among the members, a general outcry that was vaguely indistinct, however the meaning was clear. _What was going on?_ Not knowing how to answer, Dumbledore took his time quieting the room. Finally he raised his hand as the noise level rose angrily.

"Now, now. I know that this is disturbing, but I am afraid it is all we have to go on. We have already seen that this group is brutal, we've seen the bodies of the dark wizards they have fought. This is singularly more extreme, but it appears that they are fighting our enemies."

"You can not think that makes them our friends, Albus!" Hermione exclaimed. "The results of those battles between them and the dark wizards were little more than slaughters on their part!"

Albus turned his blue gaze, with its twinkle absent, toward his young professor. "I recall that the reports indicated that the Praesidium were typically of smaller numbers and that the fights were fierce on both sides, indicating that it couldn't have been quite that." He raised a hand to forestall her argument. "Now, I am not saying that they are vindicated in their rather . . . excessive techniques, but that they may not necessarily be evil, even if they prefer to kill than capture. As for their being allies of ours, that is unlikely in the extreme. And I have word from the Minister that he is announcing his declaration that the Praesidium are outlaws later this day. It will most likely be in the papers come morning."

Hermione's lips thinned, but she nodded and grew quiet. The meeting broke up quickly after that, the various members going on missions or returning to their everyday duties. The professors of Hogwarts flooed back to the school, making their way to the Great Hall for lunch. As they sat at the long table, which occupied the middle of the room during the summer, the others of the staff greeted them. If anyone noticed their rather somber and distracted attitudes, they didn't comment.

As the food appeared on the table, the Hall's doors opened, and Harry strode in. The staff immediately quieted, staring with expressions that ranged from concealed amusement to clearly shown disdain as he walked in, his magenta cloak swirling behind him. As he took his place between McGonagall and Hermione, several people blinked against the bright colour of his matching shirt. Across from him, Draco Malfoy closed his eyes looking vaguely ill, and next to him, Malfoy's godfather's sneer could have frozen fire. Harry appeared not to notice and just smiled winsomely. Snape abruptly made to leave in disgust, but the headmaster's hand appeared on his arm, halting him. Jerking his arm away, Severus nonetheless remained seated, and turned to the newest professor.

"And here I thought you had died or some such pleasant thing, as you haven't joined us for meals," Severus scathed, affecting a brutal smile. "But of course, you must inflict your infernal and despicable presence upon the Hall, effectively dispelling all of my greatest hopes."

Several snickers were hidden behind goblets as Harry turned his attention fully on the Potions master.

"Then I suppose I really must apologize, Professor Snape," replied Harry, looking truly repentant. "I am sorry that you have nothing besides me to place in your highest desires."

Many coughs sounded from the formerly laughing members of the faculty as they choked on their drinks. Malfoy's mouth gaped for a moment, until a movement from beside him had him snapping it shut. Turning his head, Draco saw Severus' eyes flash fire. Before Snape could speak, Harry went on.

"That really is truly sad," he sighed, his expression seeming introspective. "I always figured that you had many more important things, and that you thought of me as little as possible. I couldn't imagine thinking of someone you disliked that much." Harry shook his head sorrowfully, clearly unnoticing of Snape's fury which was now radiating from his still form.

Harry reached for his goblet of pumpkin juice, bringing it up towards his lips. Just before he took a drink, he felt the cup heat under his palm. The juice suddenly began boiling and as it was now too hot to hold, Harry threw the cup down, pushing away from the table as it spilled.

Hermione gasped from next to him, but the liquid ceased to come near her, instead making a narrow path off the table and shooting towards Harry. Just as the steaming missile made to hit him, he raised his hand, but didn't manage a blocking spell before it abruptly froze, fell, and shattered against the edge of the table. Harry quickly glanced up to see the headmaster lowering a hand and turning a severe glare upon the smirking Potions master.

Severus sharply pushed back his chair, the sound of it against the floor echoing in the silent room. His expression gave no leave to address him, and the rest of the staff remained quiet as he stalked toward the doors, only to be pulled up short as they swung open and a harassed wizard ran in.

The individual looked quite nervous as he jogged past Snape towards the headmaster, his eyes darting over the other occupants of the room. Murmurs sounded down the staff as they tried to identify him, but the most they could guess was that he was from the Ministry, by his uniform. His robes were singed with soot, indicating he had just flooed in, possibly through the public grate adjacent to the Front Hall.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, Azkaban Prison is being attacked!" The young man stopped before Albus, panting slightly. "The Minister requests the Order's presence immediately!"

The drama between Snape and Harry was completely forgotten as Dumbledore stood up quickly, gesturing to those of the Order. He glanced briefly at Harry, who was now brushing off his robes the ice chips. As the emerald gaze drew up to his, Albus realized he'd not get help from that quarter, and the headmaster turned away. The other Order members quickly followed him out of the Great Hall, the distressed Ministry worker trailing after them.

After a moment, the hall again filled with noise as the remaining staff started talking about what had happened. Many looked disconcerted, worried about what was occurring. Reaching for a plate of meat, Malfoy merely looked bored. He glanced at Harry as he refilled his plate.

"Surprised you aren't going with them, Potter," Draco said in a would-be amicable voice. "I would have thought you'd run right to it, if you could add to your fame."

Harry straightened the front of his cloak and looked to the blonde, with an eyebrow raised. "Why in the world would I do that? It would be dangerous. And not to mention, disheveling," he stated, pushing the hair that had escaped from its band away from his face.

Malfoy blinked, raising his own eyebrow. "You are kidding."

"Of course not!" Harry exclaimed, again pushing at his hair as it fell forward. He let out a long suffering sigh. "Darn it all. If you would excuse me, I must put myself back together." Glancing down, he added, "And I would do with a change of clothes. Everyone." He tipped his hat to the collected group.

As he swept from the hall, he heard Malfoy say in an odd tone, "Are we sure that is Potter? What's he done for the past eight years to turn him into a fop?"

Harry didn't bother listening to the reply the Slytherin might have received, instead increasing the speed of his strides as the Hall's doors shut behind him. Once he reached his chambers, he burst through the door and went into his bedroom at a run. The rooms were now fully furnished and at his wave, a drawer in a nightstand opened and a small pendant flew to his hand. With a quick word, a hook seemed to grab him behind his navel and he left his rooms behind as the portkey activated.

Landing solidly on his feet near the base of a mountain, Harry quickly moved to what looked nothing more than a rock wall and placed his hand upon it. A glow suffused through the rock and a hazy outline of an entrance appeared, and he quickly stepped into it. The familiar walls of the passageway lit as the torches came on, and a sentry intercepted him. Harry nodded to the Elf, one of a secret species which were distant cousins of house-elves but nothing like them, and the tall male nodded back as he moved back into position.

Harry swiftly made his way down the passage, taking out his wand and sending a bright red glow before him. By the time he reached the meeting hall, the members of his group had been summoned into the room. As he walked to the front, pulling the band from his hair and letting it swing over his shoulders, he caught Carnifex's worried eye. As though to undermine any concern, the Vampyr smirked and gestured to Harry's robes in sarcastic approval. Harry shook his head and turned to the others of the Praesidium. His expression hardened.

"There is an attack taking place on Azkaban. At this moment. The Order has just been summoned by Fudge." He held a hand up as a couple of his associates made to speak. "I am not interested right now on why we didn't find this out beforehand, but we need to move. We can not have those collected in that Prison out to join with the enemy."

"You think that the old Death Eaters would still be sane after eight years there, and able to join them?" called out one of the few witches in the hall.

"I don't want to find out, Artemis. They have more than enough in the way of advantages, we can't allow more," Harry answered, waving his wand towards the door. As a trunk flew in, he flicked his hand to open it. "Now we must hurry. I want most of you to come with me. No humans, though." He didn't want to risk it, with the Dementors in the prison. _Why the Ministry ever allowed them back, I'll never know,_ he thought, as he pulled out his weaponry from the trunk.

Turning his wand towards himself, he transfigured his robes into a tight black shirt and trousers. "Carnifex, with me. The rest of you, pair off. You know the drill- don't leave anyone behind, kill the enemies, no one else. Well, the prisoners don't matter. No feeding, though." Harry turned a hard gaze on the various Vampyrs and select others that might have had the urge. "We will meet on the south end of the island, and strike from all sides."

Glancing at Carnifex, who moved over to him, Harry attached a sheathed sword to his hip, his wand to an arm holster, and a dagger to his boot. The others in the room also suited up, and once they had, Harry nodded as he swung a dark cloak over his shoulders, and pulled the hood up. Harry muttered a quick charm to keep the hood in place to conceal his face, and his comrades quickly did the same.

"Vadere," Harry told them, and with that, apparated out.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to all my readers. Hope you've enjoyed so far, and hope you like what's coming!

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,

-Zenn

Vadere (Latin) - means to go violently, hastily.


	8. One Battle Of

Chapter Eight - One Battle Of

The wind howled over the dank island that held Azkaban Prison, swirling never ceasing fog into misty clouds. The grey obscured the black of the fortress, covering the gothic structure from sight. When pockets opened in the haze, the building appeared as though dark figures, the battlements large sentries guarding this world of vapour. They were soon swallowed once more.

The cover held true to the farthest shores of the landmass, effectively hiding anyone alighting on the edges. The darker figures in the fog moved effortlessly across the pebble beach, the continuing gusts concealing all sounds of their movements, as well as making it impossible for them to hear noise from the gaol itself.

Gathering close together, the Presidium held fast for a moment, attempting to gather themselves in the gloom. One cloaked figure moved to the front of the pack.

Harry murmured softly in the language of the ancients, issuing his swift orders and quick directions. With a gesture barely seen, he turned back to the fortress, stepping soundlessly towards it. The others moved into position, unseen to the occupants of the prison.

Pulling up fast against the outer wall, Harry looked at his partner. The Vampyr nodded and closed his eyes, reaching telepathically to the rest of their battalion. Once assured they were in position, he sent the signal to strike at Harry's gesture to begin.

The Presidium quickly scaled the wall, dropping silently to the other side. The wards of the prison had been broken down long before their arrival, rendering the need to hide from them unnecessary. They cautiously made their way to the inner building, meeting no challenges against them.

Harry stilled at the stone barrier to the prison, straining to hear anything from inside. Even the cries of the prisoners, usually so commonplace, were unheard. Pulling his wand from his arm holster, he spelled a hole into the wall. Dropping to his knees, he moved into it, staying low on the other side. Once Carnifex followed him through, Harry closed the opening.

Scanning the immediate hallway, and seeing nothing, they rose to their feet, keeping well hidden in the shadows. Barred doors lined the walls, though no sound came from within the cells, as though they were empty. With measured strides, the wizard and Vampyr walked down the hall, wand and sword held at ready. The going was hazardous just by the path, which clearly was not meant for regular human passage. The floor itself, though stone, seemed as rotted as the bodies of the Dementors that haunted the place. Large areas were pitted and cracked, worn through by time and magic.

Harry stopped at the corner, taking a deep breath and forcefully clearing his mind of emotion. The nearer to the centre of the gaol that they got, the more he knew they would feel the affects of the Dementors. Even now, he felt the cold, his nerves prickling with awareness. If Carnifex noticed anything, he failed to show it. With another breath, Harry stepped down the next passageway, continuing to listen avidly for anything which might signal danger. The cells along the halls remained quiet and empty.

After moving several floors downward, sounds began travelling to their ears. At first indistinguishable, it soon became clear it was the clamour of battle. Echoed shouts rang through the halls, bouncing off cold stone. As Harry and his partner neared the main level of the gaol, various colours of light lit the dark ahead of them.

Raising a hand, Harry glanced at Carnifex and gestured for him to move to the other side of the hall. Keeping close to the wall nearest him, Harry silently walked to the end of the passage. Staying in the shadows, the two warriors looked over the prison and the chaos ensuing within it.

The balcony upon which they stood blocked most players in the scene below, but offered a panoramic view of the inside of the building. The very architecture seemed to render Hogwarts Castle modern, the walls worn smooth and black where once it was rough grey. Below them, where the battle was in force, was a large cavernous hall, with circular pillars of black reaching from the floor to the ceiling levels above where Harry was. The terraces surrounding the pillars in rings upward were as dilapidated as the halls through which he had walked. Beyond the edges of the levels were walls spaced evenly with dark openings. Harry couldn't see into them, but noticed that nothing moved in the shadows.

The torches along the walls sputtered on every level, as though unused to burning. Harry realized that the cold of the Dementors would typically keep them out; and that while it was bitterly chilled, the air lacked the frost that accompanied the creatures. Despair still licked at him, as though coming from the building itself, and Harry decided to move quickly, using the absence of the Dementors to his advantage.

With another wave toward Carnifex, who immediately dropped low and moved forward, Harry stepped around the corner, onto the balcony proper. Sinking down to his knees, he slid to the edge, looking over with his chest against the hard, cracked floor.

The pops and bursts of curses were still going strong. From his vantage point, Harry could now see the figures shooting the spells. Darkly concealed forms moved along the far perimeter of the room, attempting to gain leeway. Scanning the walls below, Harry realized that other people hid in the darkness of the halls adjacent. Looking harder, he saw that they wore lighter robes than the rest, and had no weapons. The prisoners apparently, at least from that side of the prison.

Looking back at the fighting men, and their struggle to push through the room, it became obvious that the exit to the prison lay somewhere in that direction, and that the escapees and their rescuers were trying to reach it. Harry couldn't see those blocking them, but knew them to be Order members and possibly some capable Aurors. At any rate, by the number of spells, Harry could tell the enemy far outnumbered the others.

Still wondering where the Dementors were, but not wanting to tease fate by waiting around, Harry glanced up. The dark halls on the levels above them were no longer empty. As he watched, several cloaked figures moved from the shadows, mirroring his and Carnifex's positions. With a nod to the Vampyr, who signalled the others of the Praesidium, Harry didn't wait to see if they moved.

Grasping the side of a pillar, Harry pulled himself off the balcony, gripping the ridges and cracks in what may have been marble. Once down slightly, he dropped to the ground, using the column to shield himself from the general view. Carnifex jumped beside him, directly from the level above, landing evenly on the unbalanced floor in a crouch.

Explosions sounded towards their left, indicating good aim by some of the interlopers. Carnifex nodded once, and with a sudden increase in pitch, the battle intensified as the Praesidium joined in. Screams came from several of the enemy as they were attacked without warning, the hooded warriors dropping directly onto them. Erecting a strong barrier charm across the Order and Ministry's area, to protect both them and his own men, Harry gestured to two of his Elf warriors to maintain it. Harry made his way along the edge of the main hall, taking a few panicked foes down with quick, yet deadly, spells straight to the chest. Carnifex came up beside him, sword already dripping red.

"Ateraes," the Vampyr murmured, pointing with the blade toward the other side of the large chamber.

Looking through the foggy haze left by spells, Harry saw many dark forms moving along the wall toward the direction of the halls leading to the exit. Most were wearing prison garb, and some staggered, as they tried to walk unnoticed. Glancing at the startled members of the Order and Ministry, who were attempting to alternately break through the shield charm and watch the fight, Harry saw that they weren't looking at the criminals.

With a muttered oath, he gestured for his associate to go back to the main battle. Harry turned, skirting along the wall, ducking spells and striking opponents, making his way towards the other side. He tucked his wand away as he neared the makeshift barrier, not needing anyone seeing it. Moving from pillar to pillar, he was careful to keep his face averted as he passed the officials. Surreptitiously scanning the group, he saw several he recognized by sight and a few by name, including Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt in the ranks of the Aurors. Looking at them, an odd sense tickled his mind, but he put it to the side for the moment.

Reaching the wall once again, Harry pulled into the shadow, stilling. With a quick motion under his cloak, he pulled out a dagger. As the first man stepped in front of him, he lashed out, grabbing the figure's robe and dispatching him with a stab of the blade. Startled, the others reared back, and Harry moved out of the darkness, overtaking the first couple easily. Those toward the back of the group, who were in nicer robes and dark masks, brandished their wands his way. Harry pulled one the prisoners in front of him, holding him up as the spells hit him instead. Letting the body fall, Harry sent a burst of power from his palm toward the more dangerous attackers, downing the others with his knife.

Once all were dead, a quick glance toward the blocked wizards and witches showed that they weren't looking his way, and therefore hadn't noticed his wandless magic. While some creatures were capable of that type of magic, the sort he could do was fairly signature, and would easily give away his identity. Just as he made to turn away and to the battle, the unease he'd noticed earlier repeated.

Narrowing his eyes, Harry focussed back on the group, ignoring the continuing battle. Sudden understanding caused him to start in surprise and he immediately glanced around for Carnifex. He caught the Vampyr's eye just as the creature used his fingers as claws, slitting the throat of the man before him. Taking his sword back up, Carnifex made his way toward his leader.

Harry took out his wand once more, keeping it hidden with his body, and continued to send various spells at the rapidly diminishing ranks of the enemy with almost idle flicks. Carnifex halted next to him, shaking his sword of some of the gore covering it. The Vampyr's pale skin had traces of blood on it, but he seemed uninjured. His fangs glinted as he smirked. Raising an eyebrow, Harry looked at him.

"Doing well, amice?" Harry asked, shooting an amber coloured curse toward a man attempting to sneak up on them.

"You know me, Ateraes. Making the most of the situation." Carnifex scanned the room, then turned his red-tinted gaze to Harry. "What is it?"

"What do you notice of the Order members?"

"From what you have briefed us on, it seems like there are several operatives there," Carnifex answered, looking towards them, slightly confused.

Harry nodded. "Yes, several operatives, and some Ministry lackeys. No one of supreme importance. Yet, I know many of Dumbledore's closest came, not to mention the headmaster himself."

Carnifex scanned those in question again, then looked up at the other levels of the prison. "Something is happening elsewhere."

"Yeah, and something tells me that it's something major, if so few actual persons of competence are here. Had we not arrived, even those of the Order over there wouldn't have had a chance." Harry gestured vaguely around the chamber. "Most like, the Order didn't think the enemy would have such a force. Let's find out just what is happening. You'll have to question them." Harry waved toward the barrier.

Another look around showed that the Praesidium had the battle in hand. Carnifex sheathed his sword, moving toward the shielded men and women. Harry glanced around and followed, keeping his head down. Reaching the edge of the spelled area, and pulling up to the Elf guards, Harry gestured to them. Muttering an order in Latin, he had them clear an opening in the block. He then told Carnifex to pull out Tonks.

With an inhumanly swift movement, the Vampyr reached through and grasped the Auror's arm, wrenching her out of the shield before anyone could stop him. The Elf nearest quickly closed the slit, as Shacklebolt and others attempted to come after her.

For her part, Tonks didn't yell out, though she did trip on a crack in the floor. Carnifex's grip kept her from falling face down, and before her surprised eyes he held her wand that he had somehow pulled from her. Harry rolled his eyes and fought a quirk of the lips, focussing back on the situation. Carnifex maintained his hold on her, even as she struggled, and smirked as she tried to knee him to no avail. Harry sent a look at him to speed it along, keeping his hood far over his face. He saw the rest of the Praesidium finish with the enemy and look over their own numbers.

"Relax, Auror," the Vampyr murmured softly. "We are not going to harm you."

Tonks tossed back her currently orange hair. "Then let go. And give me back my wand."

"In a moment. Right now, we need to know what is going on, and where." Carnifex's voice stayed soft, and he kept his Vampyric features shadowed under his hood.

"What are you on about?" Tonks shook her head. "Even if I knew, I'm not about to tell anything to a group of criminals."

Carnifex shook her slightly, tightening his grip until she winced. "Listen, mortal, the criminals were the ones trying to get out of this god-forsaken place, while we came in. And in so doing, we happened to save your pathetic lives. Somehow that doesn't sound distinctly rational for anyone of evil persuasion."

Tonks pulled against his grip. "Well, I'd call this evil." She blinked at the taller figure. "Did you call me 'mortal'?"

Carnifex pulled her closer, raising his head up. As the light hit his fangs, his eyes glowed from the darkness that remained over the top of his face. Tonks gasped, wrenching backward, sliding on some loose stone. Harry grabbed her from behind, holding her arms tight against her body, making sure she couldn't turn and see his face. As he pulled her close to lean near, Harry gave Carnifex a sharp warning look over her shoulder.

As she stiffened and tried to pull away, Harry whispered into her ear, "It's all right, Nymphadora Tonks. We aren't going to harm you. He's not going to attack."

Tonks stilled. "How do you know my name?"

Still keeping his voice pitched low enough not to be recognized, Harry answered, "An Auror who fought bravely in the Order of the Phoenix, not to mention one with such striking features," he chuckled softly and she breathed deeply, "is hard to miss."

"Who are you?"

"I am known as Ateraes. That is Carnifex. Don't worry, he's harmless when he wants to be." Harry smirked at his partner, who glared at him.

"What about you, are you harmless?" She asked, a touch of sarcasm making her displeasure evident.

"Let's not get into that." He shifted his grip to hold her less harshly, if no less securely. "Now. Something is happening. What is it, and where is it?"

Tonks shook her head and kept silent. Harry sighed, then pulled her into the shadows away from the view of her comrades. Carnifex gestured for the others of the Praesidium, who were now coming closer, to remain where they were.

"Tonks, we do not have time to play games." He pushed her forward to the wall, grasping her wrists in one hand. With his other hand, he pulled his wand, keeping it from her view. "_Dicere Verum_."

A light of blue streamed from the tip of his wand, spiralling around Tonks' neck, and over her mouth. She tried to pull away, but Harry held her still. Nudging her back, pushing her sharply against the stone, he pressed hard enough to make her gasp. The blue spell instantly entered her mouth, disappearing as she snapped her jaw shut.

A vaguely dark spell, it nonetheless does no lasting damage to the victim, instead working as a type of truth agent. It suppresses the will to keep quiet, as well as the urge to lie, for a brief time, rendering the person truthful. And talkative. Because of that, and its general short time of usefulness, it was not often used. Nor was it very well known, so no one thought to safeguard against it.

"This is very wrong, you know!" Tonks exclaimed as the spell started to affect her. "I'm an Auror, you're the criminal, this should so be the other way around! This is very ungentlemanly. I don't know who you are, but I can tell you're a bloke. I'll will figure out who you are! You know you shouldn't treat a lady like this. And what the bloody hell was that spell! You did something so I'd talk! That is completely dark, and another reason to put you in Azkaban. Or keep you here, I guess, as we are here. And . . ."

As she continued talking, Harry heard a dark chuckle behind him. "Don't you love that spell, Ateraes?" Carnifex asked, amused.

With a low growl, Harry nudged Tonks again to quiet her down. "Tonks, where is the rest of the Order? What is happening?"

"The others are in the Containment Ward. There were breaches, and Dumbledore figured that the main ones of the dark guys were trying to get in. He's a smart man, Dumbledore, ya know? Knows things, he does . . . Ow! Stop pushing me, you blasted cad."

Harry made a sound between a growl and a sigh. "What is the Containment Ward? Where is it?"

"The Containment Ward . . . funny name, huh? Fits though . . . Ow, okay, okay. It's where the Dementors are kept. There's too many of them to let them have run of the prison, or else everyone here would be Kissed. So, extras are put there, and then, er, well, the shift changes, I guess. Some get put there, and more come out. I don't think they really like it much, but they do it by order of the Ministry. Don't ask me why."

"Where is it?" Harry questioned curtly.

"It wouldn't kill you to have some manners, you know. Fine, it's down two levels." Tonks gestured with her chin downwards.

"Down? But this is the lowest level," Carnifex interjected.

"No one outside the Ministry is supposed to know about it. There is a trap door down that hall."

"_Which_ hall?" Harry asked sharply.

"Let me go and I can show you." She squirmed slightly, but when Harry didn't release her, she sighed. "Two to the right."

A shiver ran through her body as the spell wore off. Harry pulled her away from the wall and into the light. Keeping her face away from him, he gestured for one of the Elves to place her back with the others, and for Carnifex to hand over her wand. He then ordered the guards to place a timer on the barrier and to join the others. As they did as he bid, light rippling through the shield, Harry turned to Carnifex.

"Gather those able. We need to go down there."

Harry made to move towards the hall, but stilled when Carnifex grabbed his arm.

"You should not go, Ateraes. That many Dementors will affect you even past your defences."

"I have to, amice. Come now, let us go." He pulled his arm from the Vampyr's grip and walked over to the hall. "Now."

With a gesture to the others, Carnifex fell into step beside Harry. They moved down the hall carefully, torches coming on as they approached, though each seemed reluctant to light. Watching the floor for both structural integrity and any sign of entrances, Harry waved the others to a stop after about fifty paces.

He crouched down, Carnifex kneeling beside him, as he felt along the floor near the middle of the hall. Glancing up, Harry ordered several of his men to move down the passageway farther, in case of any surprises from that direction. Looking back down, Harry waved his wand over the trap door. When no sensor spells detected danger, he flicked the wand gently, removing the cover stone from the passage.

The darkness seemed solid within, and as the air below came up, Harry's breath was visible. Summoning a torch, Harry grasped the base and stuck the flame into the hole. The light revealed crumbling stairs and a thin hall. Moving onto the first stairs, Harry floated the torch downward, following quietly. Carnifex came after, followed quickly by most of the others. Several remained above as guards, with orders to leave should they receive a signal to.

The stairs continued deeper, becoming more steep the further down. When they levelled out, it was almost a shock, and Harry stilled, waving for the others to, as well. The single torch light moved forward, showing a narrow, yet tall, passageway. Harry walked after it, carefully stepping over large potholes in the floor. He gestured for the rest to come slowly. The air seemed frozen, the bite burning Harry's skin as he walked.

Reaching a turn in the passage, Harry followed it, senses sharp. A breeze passed his face, and he looked harder into the darkness ahead as he walked. Suddenly, a strong gust blew over the Praesidium, the torch stuttering out and casting them into complete shadow. They halted, tense and alert. Those with heartbeats heard them in their ears, as nothing moved. Harry took another step forward, and a cold hand grasped his shoulder.

"Ateraes," Carnifex whispered, as though unconsciously trying not to disturb the silence. "Hold."

"Can anyone see anything, even the Vampyrs?" someone asked softly.

Carnifex moved as though turning, but kept his grip on Harry. "No, we can not."

Harry allowed Carnifex's hand to remain on his arm, as he addressed the others, "Those who are able, make some type of light."

The passage lit with various colours, blazing in the cold air. Blinking, Harry held his wandlight away from his face and down the corridor. Ordering the others to follow, he continued along the path. The floor began to slope downwards unevenly, and the travellers were forced to hold onto the hall for balance at some points. Several minutes passed in relative quiet, the only sound the many footsteps as they moved.

A low grating noise halted them in their tracks. Glancing around, the compatriots tried to find what was causing it. The sound became louder, and seemed to surround them.

Abruptly the floor sunk beneath them, spinning downward into a tunnel. The wall was too slick to grip and the Praesidium members found themselves sliding down the shaft, their self-made light failing. In the darkness, they grasped at their comrades and the walls of the hole, palms skidding down stone.

The tunnel suddenly ended, and they were cast out into open, brightly lit, air. Startled exclamations finally found their way from the warriors' throats, echoing as they fell. The unwilling flight ended sharply as they were plunged into freezing water. The shock stilled their movements for precious moments, before they struggled for the surface. The Vampyrs, who had no need for air, and the Elves, who could go without for quite awhile, helped the others- the half-breeds, the few Veelas, and the rest of the group- to the top and onto the bank surrounding the water.

"Ateraes!" Carnifex called sharply from near the edge of the lake.

His cry caught his associates' attention, and they quickly scanned the scattered members for their leader. An alarmed yell came from near a mass of stone, partly covered with water. Carnifex ran over, pushing others out of the way, and leaping over a sharp boulder. He dropped to his knees next to Harry's prone form.

"Ateraes! Don't you do this," the Vampyr admonished, flipping him over. Blood covered part of Harry's face, and he didn't respond. "Damn you, wake up, Ateraes. Harry!"

The leader of the Praesidium lay still.

* * *

* * *

A/N: Thank all of you for reading. Please review, I love to know what you think. It makes writing so much easier.

-Zenn

Dicere Verum: derived from 'Verum dicere' - to speak truthfully.


	9. A Revealing In

Chapter Nine - A Revealing In

The large chamber echoed Carnifex's exclamations across the water. The members of the Praesidium moved closer to their prone leader as their second in command struggled to wake him. Worried expressions were mirrored across the group when the Vampyr's attempts were in vain.

"Harry, come on," Carnifex murmured, a slight edge of desperation colouring his tone.

The Vampyr slid his arm under Harry's neck, lifting him gently and pulling him closer as he braced his friend's limp form against his leg. Feeling past the blood staining Harry's hair and face, Carnifex touched the wound along the side of his head, trying to determine how bad it was. From the damage, it appeared that it hadn't only been the landing on the stones that caused it.

As his cold fingers ghosted over the raw tissue, Carnifex felt a crack in the bone that was revealed. Warm crimson covered his hand as he pulled it away and laid it on Harry's chest. Concentrating, the Vampyr sensed the beating of the heart underneath his hand, becoming worried as he realized that the pulse was erratic and weakening.

Glancing up at his allies, he sought out the most powerful of the Elf warriors. Gesturing for the male to come over, from where he was checking a coughing Veela, Carnifex turned his attention back to his leader. He addressed the Elf as the other kneeled beside them.

"Laminae," Carnifex said softly, "can you heal this?"

Leaning closer, Laminae cleared away the excess blood covering the injury. Placing his hand upon Harry's forehead, the Elf eyed the wound as it continued to bleed. Carnifex watched him impatiently.

Eyes narrowing after a moment, Carnifex growled, "Well?"

"I am not certain," Laminae answered, not raising his gaze from his patient. "If you would be quiet for a moment, I could discern."

Carnifex fell silent, letting the Elf work over their commander. The others moved around, though the Vampyr paid little attention. He did recognize their seamless motions of searching the vast area surrounding the lake, keeping watch against threats and attempting to determine their location, to which he was grateful. Carnifex may have strong leadership capabilities, but he had never found himself possessed of the urge to use them. He left that to his young friend.

As Laminae examined the man he held, Carnifex noticed that the Elf's gold-tinted skin was a stark contrast to the pale cast of Harry's face. His colour was nearing the shade of the Vampyr's, though without the sheen of magic that resided upon the undead.

Running a glowing hand over Harry, Laminae glanced at the creature holding him. "He's been greatly injured, Carnifex. Beyond the head wound, I've found internal damage, crushed organs. His body appears to have taken quite a beating through that tunnel, and falling upon these stones has just worsened it. He has barely healed from the last battle; you know he was practically impaled by that blade. Frankly, I am not confident that one of my ilk could have sustained such as this and survived. I believe it is merely his magick preserving his existence."

"Don't give me that," Carnifex sneered angrily. "The only thing that explanation told me is that you are more interested in long-winded speeches than saving your leader. You gave your oath to this man, regardless of his humanity, and you will follow through, lest you find yourself severely lacking your life. Am I understood?"

Laminae gazed upon the Vampyr for a moment, then looked back at Harry. "Do not doubt my loyalty or my honour. I will try, I assure you that."

Carefully, the Elf lifted Harry from Carnifex's arms, laying him gently flat against the stones. Closing his eyes, Laminae focussed deeply and took a breath. Releasing it, he placed his hands over the young man's chest. He pulled at his internal power, sweeping it across the form, a blaze of light surrounding Harry's body.

With a sudden flash, the light speared through the wizard, wrenching at his own power.

* * *

Heat lashed over Harry's skin, uncomfortably stifling as he attempted to breath. With the greatest of effort, he forced his eyes open, only to swiftly shut them again as fire lanced through them. Raising a hand to his face, Harry moaned as he once more attempted to raise his eyelids, this time slowly allowing them to get accustomed to the light.

_Strange,_ he thought, _I didn't think Azkaban would be this bright._

Sitting up slowly, Harry had the vague notion that something wasn't quite right. That idea was proven fact as his vision cleared and he looked about himself. Startled, he pushed quickly to his feet, feeling along his wand holster for his wand. When he found naught, he glanced down and realized that he wasn't dressed as he had been shortly before. Instead of his dark shirt and trousers, covered by his hooded cloak, he found himself in plain robes of deep red. His weapons were nowhere to be found, and he was barefoot.

"At last, awaken unto thee," spoke a voice behind him. Pivoting around, Harry looked for who spoke, finding no one. Laughter floated around him. "No, no, thou shalt not see thee."

"Who are you?" Harry asked, making himself remain calm. "Show yourself."

"And of what use would that be?" answered the voice, with an amused inflection.

"It is typically easier to hold a conversation when two people are face to face," Harry stated.

As laughter once more echoed around him, Harry took the time to register his surroundings. All around him stretched pale sand, meeting the washed-out sky at the distant horizon. The sun above beat upon him, seeming to weigh the humid air down, making breathing arduous. Nothing mired the expanse of desert, no landmarks or oases.

"Does this not render your memory to provide images?" Again the voice spoke, and Harry could now distinguish it as male.

"Not really, no," Harry answered snidely, crossing his arms.

"Pity, that," stated the voice. "It certainly strikes nostalgia upon thee."

"Is that so? How wonderful for you." Harry ceased looking for the man speaking. "You do know that hiding like this is the way of a coward?"

"Mayhap. By chance it may also be the case of wishing to remain unknown. Anonymity is great freedom. Though, I am certain you would know little of thus."

_This man is clearly insane,_ Harry thought. _And trying my patience._

"Listen, I don't know what era you think you're from, but this is really getting annoying." Waving an idle hand, Harry went on, "I would really rather be doing something. So, gonna get to attacking me or whatever already?"

"Oh, but nothing as plebeian as that," stated the man, his tone humorous. "I am merely granting thou assistance, by my word."

Harry didn't bother to answer as he rose an eyebrow. His arms were still crossed and he leaned most of his weight on his left leg, appearing relaxed though his senses were on sharp alert. After a moment, the voice spoke again.

"Now, now, there is not a need to be apprehensive, my friend. I am only pulling forth that which you well know." The man's tone went dark. "You may find yourself in need of it."

Suddenly Harry's footing was compromised as the sand beneath him roiled, causing him to fall backwards. Before his startled gaze, the ground rose up magnificently, sharp stone figures blooming from under the desert floor. On all sides of him, the sand fell away from the rising forms, and as they reached towering heights, shadows fell across Harry's face as the sun was blocked.

As quickly as it had began, the moving of the earth halted, shocking in its abruptness. Harry regained his feet, turning slowly to look about him. Before him were buildings of immense proportions, set into the walls of sandy cliffs. The walls of the structures were worn smooth and cracked in many places. They formed what appeared to be ruins of temples, or pyramids of some sort.

With a gasp, Harry realized where he was. He'd been in this valley once before, many years previous, and as the man had said, images were drawn from his mind. Images that moved in front of him, hazy, but slowly solidifying. As these remembered figures took shape, Harry belatedly saw this for the vision it was. By then, though, there was no fighting it, and Harry lost himself to his own memory . . .

The Final Battle against Voldemort had passed a mere few months ago, and the evidence of the damage from it still made itself known in Harry's body. With a pained sigh, he struggled to open the pouch at his waist, pulling out and downing a potion as quickly as possible. Taking a deep breath as the pain nullified, Harry glanced around himself.

He found little interest in the ancient stone structures, eyes scanning rapidly as he looked for something in particular. As he walked over to the opening of one of the edifices, he found himself slightly short of breath. Sighing once more, Harry sat against a low part of the wall to rest, careful to stay in the shade.

Dressed in the loose robes, that made sure to cover the various scars across his body, Harry still felt over warm. He knew better than to use magic to cool himself, which was also the reason he had to cover himself with clothes as opposed to using a Glamour charm, but he wished to Merlin he could. As reckless as he may have been, the consequences of circumventing the natural air were to fearful to consider.

Harry was in a remote area of the Egyptian desert, past where even most of the ancients dared go. His travels had led him far, in his wish to escape himself, and had now landed him in the middle of the Valley of the Tombs, the burial ground of the most prestigious pharaohs. This part of the necropolis was a great distance from the ravaged graves of those such as King Tutankhamen and was guarded by curses that no longer were remembered. Harry's presence alone was a danger, should he set off the ingrained traps, ergo his wish not to use his magic to draw attention to himself.

He quickly took a drink from the canteen he carried, then glanced around again. Taking a deep breath, nearly choking on the heated air, Harry wrenched himself up and stood still to regain his balance. While he had greatly recovered, at least physically, he still had the tendency to push past his endurance.

His mental state, Harry tried not to think of. It was more that than anything else that had led him to this godforsaken place. His quest was selfish, something he himself needed; he was searching for knowledge to vanquish not one without, but within.

Shaking his head of excess thought, he moved to the entrance of the pyramid he had rested near. Harry eyed it carefully before stepping inside, his senses tuned high.

His movements were studied and meticulous, following a path that his instincts laid out, making sure to avoid as much danger as possible. Though slow, Harry's progress into the tomb passed without incident. By the time he needed another drink of water, he'd made it into the centre of the inter-chambers. With a flick of his hand, light engulfed the hall and he gasped slightly.

Even in his current weariness, the sight was staggering. Gold gilded walls rose several dozen feet to a ceiling of a dark stained indigo. The pillars that marked off the length of the main chamber held the roof, appearing to be holding a sky of night. Upon the columns and at strategic places on the walls, hieroglyphs told stories of gods and battles and travels to other worlds. Several paintings depicted ancient mages creating their magick with raised hands and intense expressions of concentration, before wands became the easy medium of sorcery.

Near the back of the hall lay the main sarcophagus, the jewels strewn about it glowing in the light, lending it an unworldly air. Along either side, altars were positioned, holding canopic jars and statuettes of lesser godlings. Nigh these stands, acting almost as guards of the ancient relics, statues of the main gods held court over the room- Horus, Ra, and nearest the sarcophagus, Osiris, the god of the underworld.

Harry moved across the room, footsteps echoing hollowly, stepping carefully around various ushabtis- the small clay figures of servants meant for the afterlife. He was very conscious of the fact that this place hadn't seen life since the first dynasties of Egypt had fallen. As he reached the far length of the chamber, the light continued to reflect off different objects, now appearing eerie in the still of the tomb.

Keeping his breathing quiet, as though to disturb the ethereal air as little as possible, Harry halted before the sarcophagus. Reaching out a hand, he trailed his fingers over the etchings along the side, grazing across words he used a spell cast upon himself to read. He vaguely registered that they spoke of the live of the man within the grave, and blinked in a slightly dazed fashion. With a sigh, Harry stepped around the coffin, slipping easily between it and the altar beside it.

Reaching into a pouch on his belt, Harry pulled out a rolled piece of parchment. Unrolling the scroll, he held it higher to see in the light. He traced a finger over the words he had written during his research of this tomb, searching for the passage he needed. Finding the paragraph, he read quickly, then followed the directions written there and looked for a certain set of hieroglyphs upon the wall before him.

Kneeling down, he found the writing near the floor, next to the base of the sarcophagus. Harry gently wiped the words clear of sand and read, using his mental translation spell to advantage.

_Follow the path of the Pharaoh to find life's knowledge._

Thinking for a moment, he worked out the logic of the message and stood abruptly as it sunk in. Backing out from where he had crouched, Harry again ran a hand over the biography upon the sarcophagus. Pressing lightly near the words telling of the Pharaoh's death, the stone under his fingers suddenly sunk in deeply, triggering a sharp movement of one of the altars.

Harry watched as it moved aside, pushing flush against the statue of Osiris. Looking down, Harry saw a large hollow space revealed where the stand had once been. He quickly knelt beside it, waving more light to shine into the depths.

Held within, a gold box gleamed brightly and he reached a hand above the hole. Focussing, Harry muttered quietly in a dead language, invoking several ancient and mostly forgotten incantations that would allow him to retrieve the item safely. Slowly the box rose from its hiding place, glittering more as the jewels upon it shone.

Moving his hand to the side, Harry let the object down to the floor and dropped his arm. Shifting so that he sat next to the box, he once more pulled out his hand-written parchments, reading through them quickly. As he placed them back into his pouch, he gazed at the intricately detailed container before him.

Emeralds blinked darkly across the top, inset with other precious stones of many colours, several of which would now be much sought commodities. Along the four sides, rubies ran in lines down it, making it appear oddly as though bleeding. Between these crimson streaks, chiselled words of ancient protection decorated the gold that covered it.

Closing his eyes, Harry again gave voice to spells thousands of years old, almost enjoying the feel of the old magic stirring around and within him. Directing it at the resplendent box, he felt his way through its defences, seeking the gentlest way of unlocking it. Latching on to the correct magic, Harry's eyes snapped open as the lid shot open.

Rising back to his knees, Harry looked into container. In lay an object that seemed an opposite to the box holding it. Instead of glistening finery, the top of it seemed cut directly out of onyx, the black shining darkly. Harry reached inside and drew out the item, feeling a sudden surge of magic originating from it, spearing almost painfully through his palms and up his arms.

Nearly shaking, Harry pulled the object clear of its box and stared at it for a moment. Almost reverently, he carefully lifted the cover. A rare smile pulled his lips as his glinting eyes ran over the first page of the true Book of the Dead.


	10. In Recognition Of

Chapter Ten - In Recognition Of

Harry barely registered his body standing as he looked intently upon the Book. Very few knew of its existence, and none of those since the time of the ancients had been able to locate it. Since he'd first found mention of it- in the volumes he'd studied about the instruments of other worlds, trying futilely to find the secrets of the Veil into which his godfather had fallen- Harry sought the text. It had taken long to merely find information about it, but for two years, Harry had no more idea of where it'd been hidden than any other person.

Voldemort's death at Harry's hand had changed that. The Dark Lord had also been searching for the Book of the Dead, though he, unlike Harry, wished to gain personally from it. On the other hand, Harry had maintained the hope that it might contain the method to destroy Voldemort. When he accomplished that without the Book's help, he thought that he wouldn't need it at all, until he realized it would be the only thing that could rid him of the consequences of his actions.

With both his and Voldemort's knowledge- which he had acquired with the spell that vanquished the man- of the Book, Harry had finally a way of determining its location. With complicated spells and much overcoming of old protections, he'd found the secret necropolis beyond the Valley of the Kings. And with his research, Harry had merely followed, what was in essence, a straight map.

Suddenly, a loud grinding sound echoed within the burial chamber. Jerking his gaze from the Book, Harry's eyes widened as he realized what was making the noise. Before him, the stone guardians of the tomb were moving, stepping off their platforms, their sightless gazes turned directly upon him. As they advanced, Harry backed away quickly. Shifting the weight of the Book onto his left arm, Harry whipped out his wand. Still walking backwards, he levelled it at the approaching statues.

He hesitated in spelling the figures, unsure as to the effect that might have, when abruptly a hard grip grasped his shoulder. Harry was spun around, coming face to face with several forms nearly identical in appearance to the images of the ancient gods that were now behind him. He heard those continuing to come closer, and swiftly raised his wand again.

"_Reductio_!" Harry shouted, jumping sideways as the closest moving statue- Horus- burst into large chunks. "_Reductio_!"

Ducking the flying shards, Harry ran between the oncoming attackers, wincing as another stone hand grabbed his arm. Wrenching his shoulder, Harry managed to shake the hold, and sped quickly to the entrance of the chamber. As he ran through the passageways, only his innate senses kept him from losing his way and going deeper into the tomb.

The stone gods gave chase, and every time Harry stumbled on his path, he would send another blasting curse behind him, to keep them at bay. His failing strength caused his breath to come in pants, but he didn't slow. As the way lightened, he realized he was nearing the outside, and using his magic to sustain him, Harry raced for the exit.

He barely managed to reach the outside before his legs refused to support him, and he fell painfully to his knees. Still very much aware of his pursuers, Harry turned around, shooting curses as he forced himself to move away. Suddenly the burning sun blazed across him, as he reached beyond the shade of the pyramid. The statues followed, even as Harry blasted them apart, but as soon as the light skidded over them, every one of the attacking figures dissipated.

Blinking, Harry slowly lowered his arm. With a stifled breath, he lay back against the sand, the Book of the Dead still clutched in his hand. He shook his head briefly as he realized that he should have known even the magic he'd used to retrieve the Book would awaken the ancient protections.

Finally, he forced himself to sit up, as the sun became too strong. Rummaging in his pouch, Harry found a restorative potion, and drank it down greedily. As it began working, instilling his body with increased vitality, he stood up gingerly. Glancing down at the item in his arms, he smiled lightly and began his trek back through the Valley.

By the time Harry had made it to the outer boundaries, the sun was sinking low on the horizon, and he felt as baked as the sandstone forming the pyramids. With weary motions, he climbed over a last mound. Raising his gaze from his path, Harry looked before him.

Laying surrounded by sand, a large flat area was made of dark stone in the shape of a circle. Upon it, drawn by thick white lines, a pentagram reached to the very edge. Though he knew it to have been made by the ancient Egyptian creators of the hidden part of the Valley of the Kings, as Harry moved onto the stone, it seemed glossy and new. He walked to the centre of the symbol, his eyes roaming over the pattern, and he set the Book before him.

Sitting cross-legged before it, Harry opened it and searched for the necessary passage with great anticipation. He knew what he planned was dangerous, but he had little care for that. With a shaking hand, he turned the page, taking a sharp breath as he found what he had long wanted. Because of the translation spell still in effect, Harry easily read over the ritual he planned to perform.

This ritual was an anomaly in magic. Its very existence was dark, inherently so, but its purpose was to dispel that very thing. Those who cast it, meant to completely and utterly rid themselves of all traces of Dark Magick. In turn, it would render all persons of which the caster felt protective free of harmful strains of it. They would never be able to fall victim to overwhelming powers of dark. The spell was the ultimate protection, for them.

For the caster, the only participant in the ritual, it would clear away not only excess Dark influence, but their own. For the afterlife, it gave them the security of not risking eternal damnation. As for their mortal life, on the other hand, it was forfeit. Every magical person has magicks which have basis in either Light or Dark. To destroy one, to cast it out, would destroy the other, and in turn the person.

Harry well knew what he had planned. He cared not for the fact of his death. By the time he survived Voldemort's end, he'd longed for his own with all that he had. It was almost a joke that he had lived when he dealt the killing blow, as he most assuredly had no wish to. But after that, he knew he could not just take care of it himself, not in any usual way.

The battle had brought his own Dark Magick to the fore, and the spell to destroy Voldemort had infused several parts of the Dark Lord's essence with his own. Much of Riddle's knowledge, some of his power, and a strong amount of his darkness. Harry felt it suffocating him every day, and so knew that it would only be with dire consequences to his soul if he were to end his life.

That was where the Book of the Dead, and the ritual contained within, came in to play. Not only would it achieve the selfish want of Harry's, in a way that didn't bring what he feared, but it would also save those he had left behind. It was every thing he could desire.

As he prepared for the ritual, Harry had no notice of the dark blue eyes watching him. The sun had long since set, and the observer had no more need of hiding from it. He looked on in interest as the young wizard pulled out several crystals from his pouch. As they were arranged upon the points of the pentagram, they glowed brightly, reflecting the traces of red in the eyes of the one watching the busy mortal.

The Vampyr was concealed behind a large mound of sand, laying upon it with his face nearly touching the granules. It was not as if he had concerns of breathing in the pieces. Gazing at the unknowing wizard, the Vampyr thought over why he was there. He knew what the boy was planning, having stolen in to his rooms in the dead of night to read the scrolls of notes he'd written.

The undead male also knew who the wizard was, but had little care for what he knew of the name. What drew him, was the sheer power, the stunning ability he sensed within the mortal. Having had little to really entertain him most of his undead existence, he found himself tailing the boy with the intent to see what he could do.

Wrenching out of his thoughts as the wizard stood still in the middle of the ancient symbol, the Vampyr watched raptly. The younger's voice was quiet, though intense, as the other recognized the ancient tongue, though he knew not the words spoken.

Harry focussed on the Book laying before him as he continued the needed incantations. He felt the Dark Magick swirling within him, though he didn't notice when his eyes began blazing a dark greenish black. His breath hitched, though he still spoke, as the power manifested from his body, lancing out to connect with the crystals.

In a dazed state, Harry stopped speaking, raising a dagger that he held in his hand. Dragging the blade across the revealed skin of his other arm, he watched the blood slid down to fall to the ground beside where he stood. Dropping the dagger, he again began speaking the ancient spells.

Suddenly the cool of the desert night became bitter. Words catching in his throat, Harry registered the cause as several floating creatures appeared over the hills of sand surrounding him. Glancing around wildly, Harry watched the Dementors completely surround him. The streams of power that flowed from him to the crystals flashed as he felt the despair creep into his mind.

Falling to his knees, Harry desperately tried to focus his mind, but with the Dark Magick all over him and the essence of the Dementors, he could barely breath. Placing his hands on the ground to keep himself from keeling over, Harry noticed the Book, and grabbed it.

Abruptly a blaze of silver light shot clear through him, though he had no idea whether it originated from the Book or himself. It speared across the lines to the crystals, shattering them to shards, and struck the surrounding Dementors.

Wails started from the creatures, though they didn't back away. The light hitting them changed sharply to black, and before Harry could react, thrust back at him.

Screaming as the agony ripped through him, Harry shook as images flashed across his mind. These, though, were not his memories. They belonged to the Dementors.

The visions that flashed started from ancient times. Men in guard's uniforms being closed into tombs of deceased pharaohs while still alive. In those times, it was their duty to die in the graves of their leaders. They struggled to breath, as the air became thin, some pounding upon the walls as their lives left them. Light surrounded them, changing from blue to black as the spells within the tombs covered them. As they fought them, the protections gave them no time to die, forcing their very souls from their bodies.

As the magic filled the husks that had been left, it changed, darkening in ways no one could have predicted. The bodies decomposed, but still moved, feeding from the other spells, the light spells, guarding the tombs.

Years, decades and centuries, passed, until these pyramids were opened, freeing the monstrous creatures from their prison. They fed upon these new sources of light power, some stronger than others, pulling so hard on their victims that they took their very souls and consumed those as well.

The Dementors had came into being from suffering and magic, and they now created it where they travelled. They grew to enjoy their feeding, their magic giving them sentient ability. Before long, they had adapted to a species that existed as any other, feeding upon what they needed and learning to communicate with each other.

Harry saw all of this, the collected memories of the creatures filling his mind. He no longer noticed the pain still running through his body, nor did he register it when the Dementors closed around him.

Suddenly, the creatures pulled back as a dark figure forced them away with his own power. Recoiling from one they could not feed on, the connection to Harry was sharply cut off. He fell to the ground, gasping and heaving.

Harry was barely aware of anything, not even when the Dementors left back over the dunes, but when he felt cold hands turn him over, he instinctively flinched away.

"No, it's all right, amice," a soft voice assured, and with the throbbing pain still holding his body, Harry relaxed.

Trying to focus on the one before him, he felt the hands graze over his forehead. The pain within his skull dampened, and Harry felt himself succumbing to sleep. Before he did, he attempted to ask who the man was, but couldn't find his voice.

The Vampyr knew what he wanted. As he gently lifted the young wizard, he answered, "I am called Carnifex."

* * *

Harry jerked awake, finding himself once more in the desert with the sun beating down. Gasping, he watched the pyramids dissolve into the sand, as the last threads of his memory faded away. Sitting up quickly, he realized he was back where he had been before it.

Standing up, he straightened the red robes he wore, then glanced around. Narrowing his eyes, he stood straight and crossed his arms.

"All right, what the hell was that?" Harry asked angrily. "Come on, who ever you are, I assume you are still there."

"Assumptions do not always bode well, my friend," the disembodied voice informed him. "But in this one, it does seem to have played out. Regardless, how did you enjoy your reminder?"

Harry had to forcefully unclench his jaw to answer. "It was wonderful," he scathed dryly. "Now, do you mind telling me why I went on that little trip down memory lane?"

"Oh, there's naught reason to be hostile," the man soothed. Harry merely sneered. "Well, I do believe I should illuminate thou as to my reasons. Now, I needed you to realize just why we are able to have such a charming conversation. It is because of what occurred during your rather ill-timed attempted suicide, that allows I the ability to speak to you thus."

"_What_," Harry snapped, "does that have to do with anything?"

"Put your intelligence to work. That destroyed ritual gave thee a gift."

Harry shook his head. "It did no such thing, you pompous dolt. Give me a straight answer, or _get me out of here_!"

"Now, now, Harry." A chuckle filled the air. "The answer is as thus- thou has the ability to hear me, as thou once had the ability to see what I have experienced."

Harry blinked. "Hold hard, here. You can't honestly expect me to believe you are a Dementor!"

"Oh, I am much more than that," the man responded silkily. "Do you remember Tom Riddle?"

Shaking his head at the change of subject, Harry asked, "What? Wait, I don't need any _reminders_ or trips to those memories, thank you ever so much."

Another laugh. "Do not worry, that of which I speak resides not in your memory. Mine holds these," informed the voice. "Riddle once held my esteem. He was intriguing, and wielded much power. I was naught but a foolish babe in all reality, when I joined him. At one time, he asked for a volunteer- one to take part in this plan of his. As fool I was, I offered. He had hope to build a hybrid that would answer only to his darkness, but follow enthusiastically.

"The pain was immense. That which you have felt could hold no flame to what I have felt. I wished for death, as you have done. Everyone does believe I was killed. And, in a manner of speaking, I suppose I was."

Harry turned sharply as the voice ceased to surround him, but changed to come from behind him.

"And be assured, you will soon reach your end," the man stated, his voice dark.

Staring in shock, Harry nearly forgot to breath. Before him, stood a creature so startling, Harry couldn't have imagined it. Hybrid was clear, as this thing had patches of living flesh strung together with dead, bones showing in places, and pumping veins in others. Dark robes, opened at the chest, showed a beating heart half covered with decomposing skin and brittle diseased bone.

Swallowing past a sudden onslaught of nausea, Harry looked at the monster's face, then closed his eyes. The man's skull showed on one side, bits of dead skin and strands of hair hanging onto it. The other side was alive, and may well have been handsome, had it been whole. Tanned skin, dark hair, and chiselled features would have made him a nice looking man.

Forcing his eyes back open, Harry gazed into the other's. The creature's eyes, both of them, even the one on the corpse side, were intense, the blue striking. Harry realized two things abruptly.

Voldemort's little experiment had been successful. He had created a mix, an actual living- or undead, Harry wasn't sure- hybrid of a Dementor and a man. The connection he had made with the Dementors in Egypt, now allowed this monster to communicate with his mind.

The other thing he registered was that, while he hadn't known this man before he'd been changed, Harry did see familiar features upon the living parts. He'd known someone who had those features, though that person had died long ago.

As he closed his eyes again, the thing laughed. "I see you know who I am, Harry," the amused voice said. "I was said to be the spitting image of my dear older brother. Not that anyone would state that now."

Keeping his eyes closed, Harry felt his lips quirk into an odd and half-hysterical smile. "No, they won't, Regulus."

Laugher filled his mind, then he felt himself fall. A lance of power overtook him, and he called upon his internal magic to meet it.

* * *

With a gasp, Harry woke up, his eyes snapping open. He heard several shocked exclamations around him as he swiftly forced himself into a sitting position and locked eyes with a startled Vampyr.

Gazing at his friend, he quietly said, "I know the identity of the new Dark Lord."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading, and please review. Hope you are enjoying the story, thus far! Let me know what you think!

Now, I have begun a live journal at: www (dot) livejournal (dot) com (slash) users (slash) moonpoetessz (slash). My homepage button on my profile will link you to it.

I will have responses to reviews that call for it on the lj, as well as some information about The Good Fight and The Betrayal of Innocence. Other stories that may not be suitable for ffnet will also be posted there.

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Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,  
Zenn


	11. An Experience In

Chapter Eleven - An Experience In

The wind howled and wailed across the dark island fortress. Bitter air swept the stones of the gaol smooth and splashed salty water against the lowest points jutting over a cliff of the far south rampart. The rocky shoreline displayed a dangerous welcome to any who would alight upon it.

Those within the prison paid little attention to the storm outside as they ran through the halls looking for their enemies, moving carefully over the rotted floors. The dank stone walls glittered black in the torchlight as they passed, the wood doors of the various cells showing a stark contrast at regular intervals.

When those of opposite sides, the ones remaining in the upper levels of the building, met in these malignant passageways, the dark was lit with a myriad of colours, curses dancing through the shadows. Yelled spells and wounded cries echoed along every level of the gaol. As the members of each group of opponents had now spread over the entire complex, neither side was sure just who had the advantage.

The Praesidium warriors who had been left as guards in the deep hallway around the trapdoor let the others battle one another. They knew their place, and knew that they had taken care of the majority of the dark combatants above ground, leaving the Order and the Aurors to down the rest. Without knowledge of their compatriots' movements in the bowels of the prison, they could do little more than follow the orders set by their leader, and keep everyone else away from the area they watched over.

Several levels below, their comrades stood on the shore of a vast buried lake, staring towards the outcropping of rock where their leader was rising. Everyone of them had heard the wizard's quiet declaration and waited with bated breath as he gained his footing.

The water of the underground lake slapped gently at the shoreline of stone, though the air was mostly still. Harry glanced at it for a moment as he centred his balance, then looked into the concerned eyes before him, smiling slightly as both the Vampyr and Elf reached out to secure his stance.

"I am all right," Harry murmured. His expression darkened. "But we are in trouble."

Shaking his head, Carnifex gazed sharply at his friend. "Ateraes. What the hell just happened?" He glanced at the Elf beside him, then back to Harry. "One moment Laminae wasn't sure you'd survive, and the next you're just fine and saying you know that which we have been questing for these past few months."

Sighing, Harry looked back over the lake. "I don't know what to tell you, amice. Somehow my magic must have assisted Laminae's in healing me, I suppose. I'm not certain." He turned and locked his eyes with his second. "I do know about the enemy. He spoke to me, manipulated my mind."

"How?" Carnifex questioned, ignoring the several soft exclamations from the others behind him.

"Unfortunately, it seems I have a connection with this Dark Lord, one similar to the one I had with Riddle." Harry ran a hand through his hair, grimacing as his fingers felt a mass of tacky liquid and came away stained red. He muttered a quick cleaning charm, then continued his explanation. "This Lord is a mix of a man, with a Dementor."

More startled whispers broke out, then quickly died down when Harry glanced toward those speaking. They stilled, gazing at him, now standing at attention. Harry looked back at Carnifex, noticing that the Vampyr's shock was shown by nothing more than the widening of his eyes.

Harry went on quickly. "Apparently, Voldemort made the creature as a type of experiment. According to him, years ago I developed a link with the Dementors which allows him to communicate with me. For some reason he decided to show himself, though I'm not certain why. But it is obvious that he must know that I am the leader of our group."

Carnifex sighed. "Damnation. How powerful is this thing?"

"Enough to make this rather interesting."

"Wonderful. Are things always so exciting here? I should have came to England a long time ago," Carnifex muttered dryly. He looked Harry over. "Are you certain you are well, Imperator?"

"Yes. Is everyone else?" Harry scanned the others. At Laminae's affirmative, he nodded. "Good. We had best go. The Order has no idea what they are dealing with."

"A moment, Imperator," said Laminae, running a glowing hand in front of his leader's body. Satisfied that Ateraes had truly healed, the Elf nodded. Looking into the green eyes of the man, he then asked, "Do we have any idea what this Man-Dementor wants from the Containment Ward? Is he down there?"

"He's down there, I'm sure of it," Harry answered. "As to what he wants, I do not know. But we would do well not to let him get it."

Carnifex nodded, then gestured to the rest of the warriors. "They have been searching this chamber. I do not know if they have managed to find an exit."

"My commander," spoke the sultry voice of a Veela as she stepped forward between the rocks surrounding the three males, her silver hair swinging loose over her shoulders. She gestured behind her. "My partner and I have found an opening beyond that partition that seems to be the only entrance to this chamber at our level. None else have found anything besides the one which we fell through."

Harry glanced where she indicated. "Very well. Thank you, Gloriae. Show it to me."

With that, Gloriae spun on her heel and swiftly led the way to a low archway set deep into a crevice of stone. Inclining her head toward it, she pushed back her hair with a delicate hand, though the dirt and smudges of crimson marring the pale skin belied her seeming fragility. Harry gave her a nod and slipped by both her and her Elfin partner, who had stood guard at the opening.

Patting his robes, Harry swore under his breath when he realized his wand wasn't on him. Preparing to call it wandlessly from where ever it had fallen during their little slide, he was startled when Carnifex suddenly held up the piece of holly.

"Looking for something?" smirked the Vampyr, chuckling when Harry growled softly and wrenched it out of his hand.

"Thank you," Harry snarled in mock-annoyance, shaking his head. He quickly secured his cloak back over his body, and reset the charm to keep the hood in place. Turning back to the crevice, he ducked into the immediate opening. "_Lumos_!"

The blast of light lit the passageway much too brightly, and Harry quickly eased the strength behind the spell, blinking rapidly. His vision clearing, he eyed the seemingly quiet hall before him suspiciously.

"Follow me, and keep your senses on high alert." Harry glanced past the others toward the lake behind him. "Higher alert."

Harry stepped through the arch of stone, straightening up as the ceiling reached higher. Scanning the walls, he held his wand before him and started a careful, but quick, stride down the passage. The others followed, some creating their own light, and kept pace after their leader. Moving close directly behind him, Carnifex spoke softly.

"Ateraes, do we have any idea if this leads to the Containment Ward?" the Vampyr asked, brushing his dark hair back and pulling his hood higher as he walked.

"No." Harry smiled wryly, though the other couldn't see it. "I figure that we fell through some old means of protection, meant to trap those trying to make it down to the lower levels without, perhaps, a password or something. But they would need some way to enter the chamber nonetheless from some point, and given how far down I think we are, it would be a good guess that this leads to the Ward."

Carnifex nodded, and they continued their journey. For several minutes they travelled in silence, seeing nothing distinctly odd, and the passage remained a straight path. The air was stale and wet, making breathing difficult for those that had to, and salt water dripped from cracks in the stones along the left wall, giving the Praesidium compatriots some idea of their location.

Suddenly Harry walked into a bitter cold, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. Not allowing his movements to falter, he continued further, the temperature decreasing with each step. Forcing his body to stop its instant shivering, Harry heard the various members of his group make quiet noises as they too entered into the chill.

"I do believe we are getting quite close," Carnifex muttered, though he gave little more indication that he even noticed the change in the air.

Harry kept the light spell at the end of his wand holding, increasing the power on it as they continued moving. Deeper into the iciness, he noticed a despairing influence pushing at his mind, and quickly set his mental defences to their max.

The darkness itself became suffocating, attempting to close around the intruders. As they rounded a corner in the passage, a sharp bright light illuminated the hall, then flared out, leaving a dimmer one far before them. Harry had recognized the streaming white to have come from the Patronus Charm, and knew the constant light still showing must be from torches. They had found the Ward.

Quickly covering the rest of the tunnel, Harry halted and leaned flush against the dry wall, peering beyond the opening. Before him was an enormous chamber, larger than the one they had left behind, with craggy walls of blackened stone lit by torches upon them and Ever-last Candles floating high near the tall ceiling.

Along the edges of the walls was another lake, this time circling an inclined grey platform in the middle as opposed to being surrounded by the stone of the floor. On the dais stood a multitude of wizards and witches, some clearly in Auror uniform, others in various garb. All were turned with their backs to the crevice in the wall where the Praesidium stood, allowing Harry time to scan the area without their notice.

In front of the gathered Aurors and Order members, encased in a glittering cage hovering over the far area of the moat, were an extreme amount of Dementors. There were apparently more in the containment than was safe, as the glowing bars were bending outward and looked ready to snap.

A sharp noise caught Harry's attention to his left, and turning, he was startled to see the water solidifying to a semi-translucent ice. Following the path of the frost, Harry watched as a darkly cloaked figure stepped from a well hidden entrance onto the lake, his strides somewhat uneven, but steady.

None of the people on the platform had noticed this new arrival in the slightest, much to Harry's surprise. The form stilled on the middle of the ice, and seemed to shake his head at the group. Harry assumed that the figure was male, which was confirmed when it turned and rose a strong, tanned hand in his direction.

With a quirk of a finger, Harry was abruptly wrenched from his position and pulled onto the frozen water. His eyes widened when he couldn't fight the movement, but he knew better than to make a sound. He heard scrambling behind him, and registered that his men were coming after him, but then he was brought up short and turned his attention to the figure now directly in front of him. Regaining control of his body, Harry nodded in taunting friendliness and looked unblinking into the other's face.

"Hello, Regulus," he whispered, receiving a sneering smile in return. "Long time, no see. Oh, wait, I guess not."

The human side of the face raised an eyebrow. As it pulled the skin further off the cheekbone, it was rather disgusting, and Harry was hard pressed not to grimace.

"Thou flippancy is much wasted on me, my friend," answered Regulus in the same low tone, their close proximity making it easy to speak only to one another. "I have heard of your act at Hogwarts, but there is no need to use it with thee."

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, then turned to glance at the still unknowing Aurors and Order members, his hood well in front of his face. Cracking and banging sounded from the cage before them, and they were all to busy with that to notice anything else. Looking askance at both them and the Man-Dementor, Harry sensed his comrades moving carefully into position flanking him, but Regulus ignored it.

"They are fools, are they not?" the half-Dementor asked, gesturing to those standing on the platform. "Their best work is in ignoring the true threat. They have no idea that I was the one to call all of the Dementors down to this forsaken chamber."

"What do you want, Regulus?" questioned Harry, turning his attention back to the creature.

Regulus focussed on Harry, but stayed silent as the younger wizard's attention was drawn to the wall behind him. Several figures stepped out of the opening in the wall where the Dark Lord had walked through, moving silently behind their master in much the same way the Praesidium had behind their leader. Harry now assumed that Regulus had cast Notice-Me-Not charms, or the like, for surely the Order should have heard something.

Once his men were in position, Regulus chuckled quietly. "Allow me to introduce my Spectral Knights. Quite a dedicated calvary. Our sheep are such good little soldiers, are they not?"

Harry heard Carnifex growl deep in his throat and gestured for the Vampyr to stand down. "I will ask again, Regulus. What do you want?"

"From you, an agreement. At least for the moment." Regulus smiled grotesquely, and Harry now raised his eyebrow. "Reveal not thee, and your identity shalt not be revealed."

"And of what use would that be?"

With another smile, Regulus' eyes glittered. "Come now, friend. Surely you wish not your secrets shown, nor am I of a mind to have mine aired. You reveal not what you know of thee, and your position is not mine to state. Though you are quite free to name my legion."

"What is this about?" Harry asked, his eyes narrow, his green gaze boring into the other's blue.

"I have no illusions that we are the true enemies, friend," said Regulus. "We need to know one another, for no battle can be won without knowing thy opponent. The fools need not."

"Very well. What you are shall not be told by me or mine, should I remain as such with you," Harry murmured tensely.

"Excellent." Regulus clapped his hands together, skin meeting decaying bone. Harry's jaw twitched. "Now, down to business."

Suddenly a flash of light burst from the Dark Lord's hands, then faded just as quickly. Harry realized that the creature had just removed several spells blocking the two groups from notice, and he waited for the Order and Aurors to detect their presence.

It didn't take very long, and Harry found himself concealing a slight smirk at the startled reactions they garnered. Shocked gasps and muted shouts echoed around the chamber, as the wizards and witches on the dais spun to face them. Making his way through as the group parted to let him, Albus Dumbledore came to the front, facing the two contingents with his wand raised.

"Who are you?" Albus questioned in a commanding tone.

When no one spoke for a moment, Regulus chuckled. "Since no one else is forthcoming, allow me," he drawled, bowing his cloaked head in a mocking gesture, swinging his living hand to indicate his men. "I am Lord Vivnecis. My followers are known as the Spectral Knights." As he straightened, his power flowed around him, causing his robes to swirl.

Harry recognized the meaning behind Regulus' chosen name more than most. _Living murder, of course,_ Harry thought sarcastically. _How wonderfully melodramatic._ Turning slightly, Harry watched for the others' reactions.

Everyone of the Order and Aurors had their wands out, trained at the cloaked men before them. As Regulus finished, their aim had turned to him. Few showed emotion, being as experienced as they were, but Harry still noticed their heightened respiration and sense of unease. He knew that the Dark Lord did as well, and was enjoying it. Another silence fell, as if the various enemies were content to wait each other out.

Albus finally broke the silence. "Very well," the leader of the order stated, the epitome of calm, even as he exuded power. He turned toward the Praesidium. "And you?"

Instead of answering, Harry flicked his hand. The air above them blazed slightly as flames shot into it and danced, before they settled into the double moon image that would identify the Defence.

As the fire burnt out, Regulus abruptly flicked his hand, and a loud crashing came from the other side of the chamber. Dark creatures rose into the air, freed from the cage that had held them. The Order and Aurors immediately shot their Patronus spells into the air, but the Dark Lord whispered an incantation in a language Harry distinctly remembered. The Egyptian curse flew over them, cancelling the silvery animals as soon as they were made.

Harry quickly ordered his men to protect the Light wizards and witches, as he sent a flash of light straight for Regulus. The Man-Dementor merely allowed the curse to pass through the open side of his ribs, ignoring the Spectral Knight behind him that cried out in pain. Raising his hand, Harry grabbed his dagger and leapt for the creature.

Around them the Dementors swirled, pulling what essences they could, but the members of the Praesidium beat them back. The collected powers of the various species pounded into the flying corpse-like spectres, and soon the Order's and Aurors' Patronus Charms rang out again, assisting.

Still on the ice, Harry reached Regulus, raising his blade to strike. The Dark Lord stepped backward, pulling one of his own Knights in front of him to take the blow. With a gesture, he sent the others at Harry, who pulled back. He raised his wand, turning his body to block it from the majority's view, and cast several spells in quick succession.

Moving on the frozen lake was difficult, and ducking curses shot by the Knights, Harry was forced against a wall easily. Conjuring a shield, he unsheathed his sword, and braced himself. Releasing the blocking spell abruptly, he charged the startled dark wizards, raising his blade to deflect hastily flung curses.

Reaching the first wave of Knights, Harry cut into them, thrusting his sword into any flesh that he could reach. Sliding on the ice, he grabbed onto one of his opponents, righting himself and pushing the man into the others. As they fell, a flash of silver caught his eye and he spun, parrying the lunge as a sword came for his side.

Pushing up, his blade ground against the Spectral Knight's, the metallic sound grating. Curling the sword under his cloaked assailant's, Harry rose and kicked out, catching the man in the stomach. As he fell, Harry jerked his blade up and knocked the other's sword out of his hand, the weapon landing and skidding on the ice.

A burst of blue light hit his arm, and Harry wrenched back, sliding. Falling on his hip, he raised his hand and sent a surge of power at the many enemies moving toward him. As it hit, they flew backwards, crashing into several of the highest flying Dementors and screaming as the creatures grasped them, sucking their souls from their mouths.

Ignoring the pain in his arm, Harry jumped back to his feet, scanning the area for Regulus. He found him surrounded by a group of Spectral Knights, gesturing wildly to them. Harry made for the group, taking down hostiles as they neared him.

Regulus and his men pulled out small objects from their robes, holding them in the air and speaking a rapid incantation that Harry was too far away to catch. Several of his Praesidium comrades had taken over fighting the other Knights, and Harry continued for the Dark Lord.

Suddenly, streams of black light shot from the objects the Dark wizards held, reaching toward the Dementors, all of which were circling along the ceiling. The essence lanced through the creatures, and with wails resounding in the chamber, they were contained in the blackness and pulled to the Dark wizards.

As abruptly as it burst out, the streams sucked all of the Dementors into the objects with violent jerks of energy. The Spectral Knights staggered as they held the small containers, but Regulus seemed barely bothered by his task. When the collection was finished, the Dark Lord swiftly turned toward Harry, who had finally reached him.

Flinging out a hand, Regulus grabbed Harry before he could react and pulled him close. "Remember our agreement, friend," he breathed. "We both have much to lose. We are the most wanted of men, as you well know."

"You are no man," Harry spat, jerking against the grip that held him tight.

"I am more than man," Regulus answered.

Holding the younger wizard still, the Dark Lord opened their connection and allowed his magic to spear into his enemy. Harry cried out, his body jerking against the pain reminiscent of that he'd felt so long ago in Egypt. Then he'd had no ability to fight it, but he now knew of the connection he'd created.

Blocking the agony ripping through him, Harry reached into his own core, concentrating on the power that would hurt the creature. Using the same type as what created a Patronus, he mentally grasped the bond he shared with Regulus and shot his own magic into the Man-Dementor.

Regulus didn't scream, he wailed as the Dementors had when he'd captured them. A flare of light rose between Harry and him, blasting out and sending the enemies away from each other, to land several feet apart. Their connection cut for the time being, Harry and Regulus pushed themselves to their feet, unmindful of their audience of every person and creature in the chamber.

"We will meet again," stated the Dark Lord, reaching into his robe. His followers did the same, and with a muttered travel-word, the Spectral Knights portkeyed away before anyone could stop them.

As Regulus smirked and spoke his own word, Harry returned the expression and held up one of the objects the man had used to contain the Dementors. Anger filled the Dark Lord's ghastly face as he too sped away, leaving the chamber behind.

Harry quickly concealed the object in his robes before anyone else saw it, and thanked Myrddin silently that his hood had remained in place. Every thought was cut short as suddenly he felt someone directly behind him, and felt a wand press against the neck of his cloak.

"Impressive fighting," Albus Dumbledore stated. Pushing his wand harder against the man's neck, he then said, "Perhaps now we can have your name?"

* * *

A/N: Hope everyone is enjoying. I give a witches oath to have the next chapter up much quicker. Let me know what you think of where it's going!

My LiveJournal will have info on this story and responses to reviews on it. It's linked through my homepage button on the profile.

Zenn


	12. The Introduction Of

Chapter Twelve - The Introduction Of

The chamber was silent for several beats, as all of the occupants froze. Both of the leaders stood still, Albus' wand steady at Harry's throat. The members of the Praesidium knew to wait for their commander's action, rather than attempt anything, though they shifted as the various humans turned their wands upon them. None of the other species present liked being at a disadvantage, especially to wizards and witches, but beyond a few mutters and narrowing of eyes, they held their place.

Even with the Dementors gone, the air contained a bitter chill, an oppressive strength. The Aurors and Order members were quite disconcerted, though most were well versed enough to hide it. As the torches flickered, they glanced nervously at the warriors of the Praesidium, all of whom were scattered around them. Several of the Praesidium had lost their coverings in the fight, and it was obvious what they were, and what they were not. When a low voice broke the quiet, several of the humans flinched.

Harry rolled his shoulders under his cloak. "I'll give a name to you, but it's your choice what you do with it," he responded easily to Dumbledore, his voice deliberately different than the lilting tone he used at Hogwarts.

When Harry fell silent, and didn't seem to be of a mind to continue, Albus prompted him. "Well?"

"I am known as Ateraes," Harry answered, a slight smirk colouring his tone.

"That means many things- dark, poisonous, malicious," stated Albus solemnly. "Does it speak truth?"

"Only to my enemies."

Albus chuckled slightly. "And just who are your enemies?"

"Those who fight me."

The headmaster lightly snorted, his wand in the same place against Harry's neck, where it had not wavered in the slightest. Tiring of the banter, having already dealt with too much from Regulus, Harry scanned what he could of the chamber. As he found Carnifex watching him, Harry sensed shifting behind him, as a few of Albus' people stepped carefully to their leader.

By extending his senses, Harry felt the magical signatures of Ron and McGonagall, then inwardly winced when he also registered Hermione and Snape with them. Of all of the Order or Ministry, Harry knew that the headmaster, the Potions master, and his old friend would have the easiest time determining his identity. As it was, only the fact that he kept a constant covering of his own signature made it so that they didn't know immediately.

Harry needed to get away from Dumbledore's wand, but couldn't do either wandless or wanded magic, as it would defeat all. Realizing that whatever he did had to be fast, and needed to protect his men, Harry locked his shaded green gaze with his Vampyr second, tilting his head the slightest amount to give his command.

So intent was he on this, he found himself lightly startled when Dumbledore spoke.

"Ateraes. Tell your . . . men to drop their weapons and hold their ground. Surrender."

Harry raised an unseen eyebrow. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Headmaster Dumbledore. I pray you forgive me."

"I would rather we not have to do this the hard way, my friend," Albus said amicably, though the threat was clearly heard.

"Any way would only be hard for you and yours, Headmaster."

With a nearly unseen motion, boosted by internal magic and an unspoken spell, Harry pivoted, reached up, and deftly relieved the leader of the Order of his wand. At the same moment, his warriors relied upon their various skills, and without fuss, disarmed all of the humans around them. Considering that most of the Order and Aurors were somewhat unseated emotionally, and weren't expecting a thing, it wasn't very difficult. Smirking, Harry moved back swiftly, his hood still completely obscuring his face, even as he watched Dumbledore for a reaction.

He received one in the completely and utterly shocked expression on the headmaster's face. Harry was hard pressed to keep from laughing, particularly when even the Potions master realized he too had been disarmed. As the astonishment bled out of the others' looks, it was replaced by a range of disbelief, anger, and even slight amusement, at least on the part of Dumbledore. The chamber sounded with outraged cries, but quickly fell silent when the Praesidium focussed on the group of weaponless men and women. Their expressions grew apprehensive, outright fear shining in the younger members' eyes as they realized they were surrounded by an army of creatures, most of which were rather dark.

Carnifex stepped up to Harry, his fanged smile glinting under his hood. "_That_ was impressive. And quite amusing."

Harry laughed, then turned his attention back to Dumbledore and his closest. "Headmaster. Do not fear us. We do not harm those who do not attempt to harm us. The government is idiotic. We are both after the same goal and are on the same side." Harry gestured to the collected group with the headmaster's wand. "Keep your people safe, and leave us be."

Signalling his warriors to step back towards the wall, Harry looked down at the ice that had remained when the Dark Lord had left. Focussing his magic toward the area near the middle platform, he quickly set it to melting. With a muttered word, he ordered his men to toss the Order's and Aurors' weapons into the fast appearing water, angering the owners of the weapons.

Smirking, he looked back at Dumbledore, who was watching with an almost entertained gaze, and Harry bowed his cloaked head slightly. The headmaster returned the gesture, though McGonagall, Hermione, Ron, and Snape stared with incredible anger toward the Praesidium.

Closing his eyes, Harry reached to the wards of the gaol, feeling them out as the melting ice advanced toward where he and his men stood. Moments before it destroyed the very area they were standing on, Harry smoothly shifted the wards and nodded to his warriors. Beside him, Carnifex mentally told their above guards at the trapdoor to leave when able.

With a final glance to those on the dais, the Praesidium disappeared from their spots as easily as they had arrived on the windy beach surrounding the fortress.

The air flickered as the Praesidium reappeared in the large chamber of their headquarters. With a pop, Harry arrived last, as most of the others' methods of travel were quite a bit better than his human Apparation. Breathing slightly heavily, he scanned the group, cataloguing their loses, which were few, much to his satisfaction. His warriors quickly went to the task of dealing with the corpses they had brought back, and taking care of their injuries.

Carnifex turned a concerned gaze on his friend and leader, letting his Vampyric features recede. "Ateraes, are you well?"

"Tired," Harry replied, removing his cloak and laying it on a table. "I'll be fine."

Shaking his head, Carnifex placed a pale hand on the other's shoulder. "You have the greatest luck of any mortal I have ever met."

"Yeah, lucky me," said Harry, sighing. Shrugging the Vampyr's hand off, he turned to him. "I must be returning to Hogwarts. I trust you have this in hand."

"As always, Imperator," Carnifex stated, levelling one last look on his human companion, before turning to assist the others.

Harry sighed again, and somewhat stiffly walked from the hall, turning down a corridor. The torches lining the wall lit as he approached and died out behind him as he passed. As he reached the end of the passageway, he halted near a dark wood door, placing his hand on the latch and pushing it open. Candles within the room flared to life when he stepped in, closed the door, and leaned back against it.

Fairly unseeing green eyes swept over the dim room. A bed was tucked into the far wall, set into the grey stone, and diagonal from that was a fireplace also embedded in the rock. Before it sat an overstuffed armchair, as comfortable as the ones in the headmaster's office, but made of a solid charcoal coloured fabric. Making his way over to the chair, Harry didn't bother focussing on the familiar sights, as he knew them well, being that he had been the one to design the room when the Praesidium had established this base.

Sitting down, Harry decided to relax for a moment before making his way back to the school. He gazed toward the empty hearth, flashes of the entire day replaying in his mind's eye. Most of them centred around the distant memories Regulus had brought back, try as he might to dispel them. Shaking his head, Harry ran his fingers over his face, frowning when he realized his hand was trembling.

Leaning back in his seat, he reached out across the arm of the chair and wandlessly called a vial from a drawer in his desk. He winced when the drawer slammed shut a little more forcefully than he had meant, the sound echoing in the mostly bare quarters. The bottle hit his palm, and with a flick of its cork, Harry brought the Restorative Potion to his lips and drank the vile mixture, closing his eyes until he felt it do its job.

Just as he regained his equilibrium, a gentle knock sounded at the door. Waving his hand at the door, Harry opened it without bothering to raise. His visitor strode in, letting the door shut firmly behind him, and made his way over to Harry.

"One would think you didn't want company," the older male commented as he stopped before him, gesturing to the vacant area next to Harry's chair with his wand. Drawing a chair, he placed it in the spot and sat down gracefully. "How went your rescue of the Order?"

"Hello to you, as well, Bruti," replied Harry with a smile.

His companion smirked, but nodded congenially. "Good day, Ateraes. And, so?"

Harry shook his head. "Well enough. Our loses were few, and it was definitely good that the force was made of non-humans."

"Yes." Bruti brushed the sleeve of his dark blue robe smooth with a long-fingered hand. "And how did you fair in the company of so many Dementors?" The name was spoken with a sneer.

"I would have done better without the Dark Lord being one," Harry responded.

Brushing back a pale strand of hair, Bruti leaned forward. "What was that?"

"The new enemy is a hybrid of man and Dementor." Harry watched the shock play across the other wizard's face. "According to him, he was a pet project of Riddle's."

Bruti masterfully concealed his flinch. "You are kidding?"

"I wish. And get this. I have a bloody connection with this one, too," Harry sneered angrily, then took a deep breath, forcing control. "Do you know how I met Carnifex?"

If Bruti was surprised by the change of subject, he refused to show it. "Other than that the Vampyr in some way saved your life, I do not."

Harry nodded. "Few do. Anyway, it was in Egypt. Before I'd created this force, of course, and about perhaps four years before you joined it. Shortly after the last battle with Tom. I'd gone there to do something I, well, had planned out. I was in the middle of a ritual when I was attacked by Dementors. The magic I was expelling somehow managed to link me to them in a way I only just realized was rather more than I expected."

"What were Dementors doing in Egypt, of all places?" Bruti questioned, knowing instinctually that Harry didn't wish to say more about what he was doing in the desert, and conceding to it.

"They were made there." Quickly Harry explained the process, then went on to describe the Dark Lord and his meetings with the creature.

When he had finished, Bruti sat back with a thoughtful expression. "Vivnecis? Creative, give him that," the older wizard stated sardonically. "Who was he?"

"Regulus Black," replied Harry, looking back toward the fireplace.

"Black?" Bruti followed Harry's gaze to the hearth, then looked back at the younger man. "Regulus Black. I had thought he had been killed. He was only a minor player in Riddle's force."

"Yeah," Harry murmured.

"And brother to your late godfather, as well, was he not?" asked Bruti, watching Harry with a concerned air.

When Harry nodded, but kept his gaze on the fireplace, Bruti remained silent. Harry eventually turned to him, meeting the intense eyes fixed on him. He was comfortable enough with the man to allow him to see behind his warrior's mask.

"Are you all right, Ateraes?" Bruti asked quietly.

Harry smiled wryly. "Between you and Carnifex, I do get tired of that damned question. But, yes, I am fine. Or I will be after I get some sleep and can stop thinking for a while."

"Then go." Bruti smiled gently. "Take care."

"I take care. It's the others attempting to take _care_ of me that make my life so difficult," Harry informed him, standing from his chair and stepping to the fireplace. "Good day, Bruti. I'll give your regards to Suralc."

Bruti nodded as he stood as well. The man made his way from the room, waving an idle farewell, and Harry smiled lightly in his wake. Moving to a table near the bed alcove, Harry retrieved a portkey from a box he kept of various ones, and with a word, was hurtling back to Hogwarts.

Landing squarely in the middle of his bedroom, Harry shook off a slight feeling of vertigo and placed the portkey in the drawer beside the bed, locking it with a quick charm. He then took the Dark Lord's Dementor container out of his pocket, looking it over for a moment, before setting it carefully in a trunk, which he too secured magically. Planning to study the object later, he left it alone for the time being.

Just as he turned away from the trunk, he suddenly realized that he was still in his fighting uniform. Though he much preferred it to the overwhelming robes he usually wore, at the moment even it was in rather bad form, considering everything he had just gone through. Pulling out his wand, he cleaned and repaired it, then transfigured the shirt and trousers back to their original state, curling a lip when they regained their horrid colour.

Just as he went to remove them, with the intent of taking a long shower, the wards alerted him to a visitor. Growling under his breath, Harry swiftly made his way through his chambers to his front door. Replacing his scowl with a brightly inane grin, he threw his hair over his shoulders and opened the door.

When the entrance revealed his callers, though, he found it slightly difficult to remain in character. Forcing his face not to show any shock whatsoever, Harry said amiably, "Albus, Professor Snape, what a pleasure to see you. I trust all is well?"

* * *

A/N: Hope everyone is liking it. Tell me what you think, it makes writing so much more interesting, and I know if the story is going in a good direction.

Thank you to all my readers, and a special thanks to my reviewers.

Just a warning, it will be SSHP. I wasn't sure in the beginning whether it would work, but I am now. The entire story is planned out, including the end, and will be seen through.

Bruti - (Latin; pronounced Brew-tae) Another spelling of the common name Brutus. (Take from it what you will.)

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,  
Zenn


	13. A Performance In

Chapter Thirteen - A Performance In

Albus smiled benignly. "Of course, Harry, my boy. I was only wondering if we might have a word?"

"Certainly." Harry swallowed a sigh and moved to the side, gesturing towards the sitting room with a grand flourish of his arm, his grin as bright as ever.

With another smile, Albus walked in, followed by Snape, who, as usual, levelled a scowl at Harry as he passed. Both older wizards stopped in front of the couch, waiting until Harry indicated they should sit. Albus quickly settled in, and after he turned to his Potions Professor and nodded pointedly towards the seat next to him, Snape sat with a sneer.

Harry went over to a large armchair and dropped carelessly into it, inwardly wincing when it aggravated his sore muscles. He noticed both men watching him with seemingly uncaring expressions, but Harry was careful not to let anything untoward show on his face. He quickly called for the kitchen to send up a set of tea and biscuits, waving his wand in a lackadaisical arch, smirking inwardly when Snape narrowed his eyes and breathed in as though nervous at his brandishing it in such a way.

After a moment, Snape turned his dark stare from him and scanned the room, his lip curling at the outrageous furnishings. Harry fully agreed with the man's obvious disdain when he followed the gaze to his blindingly coloured paintings he'd had the house-elves hang on every wall of the room. The scheme of neon shades covered the rest of the items around them, including the carpet and furniture, and by the time the Potions master looked back at him, a trace of horror showed past Snape's mask.

"I see you noticed my decor, Professor," Harry stated conversationally. "The paintings I purchased as a set on the island of Key Largo in the States. Fascinating place, really. Anyway, if you like the pictures, I could give you the name of the artist. He excepts overseas orders, you know."

The look he was granted by the Potions master almost broke Harry's act, as he concealed his laughter. Brushing his hair away from his face, Harry gave a glittering smile and raised an eyebrow as though waiting for an answer. The absolute revulsion he saw cross Snape's face he hadn't even gained back when he was a student and had created the worst slop of a potion as possible.

"No?" Harry confirmed, giving an almost disheartened look. "Well, if you're sure."

Albus chuckled from behind his raised teacup. "Perhaps you should, Severus. Those dungeons could use some brightening up."

Snape seemed to shudder as he glared toward Dumbledore. "Headmaster. Wasn't there a reason for our . . . visit?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Harry, we just wanted to ask you a quick question or two," explained Albus. "About your travels. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

"Not at all, Albus," Harry responded without hesitation.

"Excellent." Albus took a sip of his tea, then gazed at Harry. "Now, you mentioned seeing much of the world. Did you happen to visit Beijing, oh, around six years ago? In December, maybe?"

Harry instantly sensed the direction the man was heading. Snape's increased scrutiny confirmed the others' plans. Dumbledore's words could well have been asking if Harry knew that the Praesidium made its first appearance then. A group of dark wizards trying to overthrow the government, if Harry remembered right. The Praesidium, then much fewer in number than now, had foiled their plans and left before any big hype could start. The Defence symbol they had left meant little at the time.

"I do believe I was in China around then, yes," Harry answered thoughtfully. "Can't honestly remember if I was in Beijing or not, though. There was that festival in Mongolia, I went there in, no, that was January. December? I could have been, I suppose. Why do you ask?" His tone was a lesson in disinterest, and by Snape's disgusted snort, was working on him, at least.

"No real reason, Harry." Albus took another draw of tea. Both Harry and Snape had yet to touch theirs. "I had a friend there, just wondered if you may have seen him. What's funny is that I had another friend, this one in Mendoza, you know, around the Andes? Ever been there? Nice climate, from what I've heard. My friend sent me an owl perhaps a year and a half ago."

"Did he now?" Harry asked politely. His mind supplied him with the memory of a hoard of evil Vampyrs in the mountains. "Poor bird must have been quite tired. That's quite a distance."

Albus chuckled lightly. "Yes, indeed. I've always wanted to visit the Andes. The views are supposed to be spectacular."

"I'm sure," said Harry, thinking back to when his men had removed the Vamps charms that allowed them to be in the daylight.

Though rather difficult, the Praesidium's combined force had managed the magic, and the sight of the burnt ash of the creatures flying off the cliffs over the small villages was quite impressive. Harry's Vampyric warriors didn't concern themselves with the loss of their evil brethren, instead enjoying the scene with the others. The night after had found them in the midst of a very nice celebration.

Forcing his thoughts back to the present, Harry gazed into Dumbledore's eyes. He felt the presence of the older man's mind touching his and allowed it to search, never showing that he noticed anything. With a couple projected memories, he let the headmaster see nothing more than he wanted, but maintaining his careful hold, Albus could never detect that he was hiding something.

Both the headmaster and Snape had continued teaching Harry Occlumency after his fifth year, much to the latter's outrage. Unbeknownst to them, though, years with Vampyrs had perfected Harry's mental abilities beyond either of the other wizards'. Harry was a quick study when he had his own warriors able to delve into his thoughts at will, whether he wanted them to or not. The Night Creatures had no qualms about such things, even with allies, figuring that if they could, why shouldn't they?

When he found nothing except flippant memories, Albus cut short his Legilimency. "Well, I don't suppose there is much more to talk about, Harry," he stated. "Though, it is nice just to have a relaxing conversation after such a day as I have had. Severus, as well. Don't you agree, Severus?"

When Snape didn't respond beyond a curt nod, Harry asked, "Goodness, Albus, whatever happened? Did something occur when you were so rudely pulled out of lunch by that rather dramatic individual this afternoon?"

"What," Snape bit out, "did you think was to happen, Potter? Azkaban was attacked, for Merlin's sake. Do you believe we had no trouble when we went there?"

Harry brushed at the sleeve of his robe. "Well, I honestly don't know, Professor. I do hope it wasn't too difficult." He sighed. "By gods, I'm glad I've forsworn such business."

Albus placed a calming hand on the angry Potions master's arm. "Now, now, Severus. My apologies, Harry. Emotions are running high at the moment." At Harry's accepting nod, Albus smiled. "You see, there is a mystery surrounding the trouble occurring. We are having a time trying to establish the identities of those in the fight."

"Truly?" Harry questioned, stifling a yawn with an elegant hand. "I can't imagine."

"Yes, neither Vivnecis and his men nor those in the Praesidium will reveal anything." Albus shook his head in annoyance, though his eyes were locked on the younger man.

Harry blinked. "Who?"

"Oh, haven't I mentioned?" Albus asked. "The new Dark Lord is called Vivnecis, it seems."

"Why in the world would someone chose so . . . crude sounding a name?" questioned Harry, affecting slight distaste.

Albus wondered that Harry didn't notice his mention of the other group. "I couldn't say. And the Praesidium? What would you say of that?"

"Praesidium? Isn't that Latin for defence?" Harry tilted his head to the side. "What evil organization would call themselves that?"

"They aren't the dark wizards," Albus told him, ignoring Snape's soft snort from beside him. "If anything, they seem to be–" he cleared his throat, "– assisting– our side."

"Well, that's nice of them," said Harry, smirking inwardly at the headmaster's hesitating speech and affronted expression.

Smiling, Harry purposely took their conversation to be at an end and stood, preparing to herd his visitors out of his chambers. Albus remained seated, and Snape took cue from him. Fighting the urge to sigh, Harry smiled nicely and leaned back against the arm of his chair.

"Actually, the Minister has just declared them outlaws," Albus said. "They may have helped us, but their methods leave something to be desired. It appears they are rather violent and prefer to kill first, ask questions later."

Harry widened his eyes. "Are they a danger? Do you think they could come to Hogwarts? Or Hogsmeade? Goodness, well, I don't think I'll be able to accompany the students there this year, Albus. I do apologize."

"I'm certain we are in no danger." Albus glanced toward a steaming Potions master. "Well, we should be going, I suppose."

"If you must." Harry swept the men out of his quarters, secretly applying a temporary charm in their wake as they walked away down the hall.

Closing his door, he activated the localized part of the spell, and was granted a clear sound of the older professors' conversation as they travelled down the hall. Leaning back up to the wall, Harry listened with a smug smile.

"Albus, what was the point of that, may I ask?" Snape ground out after a moment, most likely having just scanned the hall for eavesdroppers.

"I wished to know if he knew anything, Severus. I do believe I explained that before we went." The headmaster sounded exasperated.

"That imbecile wouldn't know something if it hit him in the face," declared Snape sharply. "Why are you so certain he may?"

"I'm not." Albus sighed. "I've tried to follow Harry's travels these years, which, let me tell you, was most challenging, and he seems to have surfaced when the Praesidium has. I do not have enough evidence to know whether that be coincidence or not."

"And if not, do you really wish to know, Albus?" Snape asked. "It would make everything most difficult, even if Potter is merely being unwittingly used by this group."

"That is true, Severus," Albus conceded. "Well, I would now ask you to question Mr Malfoy. Being his godfather, I assume you know him better than I would. Then you go rest, my boy. I will deal with all of the others on staff not in the Order. If they do know anything, I would rather I knew it as well."

A pause, then Snape questioned, "Why did it require two of us to interrogate Potter?"

"I'm not even going to attempt to make you call him Professor Potter," Albus muttered, causing Harry to strain, then laugh where he stood. "Because, Severus, if he was hiding something, I would expect we would have a better chance of seeing it with more than one set of eyes."

"You sound as if you wish Potter was putting on a charade," Snape quietly observed.

Albus sighed, but didn't respond, and the listening charm ended, signifying that they had gone their separate ways. Against his front wall, Harry, too, sighed. Running a hand over his face, he realized that he had a sudden feeling that he was disappointing Albus, and he was surprised to find it troubled him. Snorting, Harry pushed away from the hard stone behind him. Forcing his thoughts to the back of his mind, he made his way into his bedchamber.

Reaching his locked trunk, he made short work of the security charm and pulled out a small, nondescript mirror. Murmuring a quick name, he watched as it worked as the old Marauder's one would have, back before he'd broken it after Sirius' death. Muttering under his breath about damn headmasters and things that brought back too many memories, he waited for Carnifex to appear.

"Ateraes," the Vampyr greeted. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing of much concern," Harry responded. "Only that Snape and Dumbledore were here to question me shortly after I returned. They suspect I might be hiding something, though it seems that neither have much idea. Snape even suggested to the headmaster that the Praesidium was using me without my knowledge."

Carnifex snickered. "Oh, yes, that's possible. At any rate, they don't really know anything?"

"No." Harry glanced at the clock on the wall. "I better be going. I contacted you to have you send a notice to Suralc. The headmaster is having everyone not affiliated with the Order questioned. I don't want to risk communicating with him myself right now, even with Fawkes' help. Give him a head's up, Amice, if you would. I haven't had a chance to charm one of these mirrors for him at present."

"Certainly," Carnifex drawled, a sneer sliding across his lips. "Aren't you afraid he won't be able to handle the pressure?" At Harry's murderous glare, Carnifex nodded. "Fine. I will send a message."

With a thank you and a farewell, Harry disengaged the two-way, and placed the mirror back in the truck. Shedding his overwhelming robes, he made his way to his shower as quickly as he could. Disregarding dinner, as soon as he finished, he collapsed into bed, not bothering with night clothes. He was asleep within moments.

* * *

Several days later, at the start of term, found Harry back to his usual self, and enthusiastic about the arrival of the students. He fairly sauntered into the Great Hall shortly before the Sorting Feast would commence, smiling brightly as he walked between the empty house tables to the back of the room. Like he'd planned, he was one of the last into the Hall. Nearing the Head Table, he noticed the varying looks he received as the other professors took in his current attire.

In honour of the Feast, Harry had gone all out, with intricately detailed robes in the brightest chartreuse he could find and a matching wizard's cap perched jauntily on his head. His hair was styled and secured back with a contrasting colour of ribbon, and the heels of his boots sounded loudly as he made his way around the table to his seat. His half-cape billowed out at the side as he turned.

Before he could reach his position, he caught sight of two others coming in to the hall, and his smile gained a semblance of sincerity. Changing direction, he moved a slight bit away from the table to greet the newcomer walking alongside Albus. As Rubeus Hagrid scanned the group, his dark eyes lit up as he saw Harry.

"'Arry!" Hagrid said brightly, striding over to the newest professor and enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug. "How ar' you!"

When the half-giant finally released him, it took a moment for Harry to get the breath to answer. "I'm well, quite well. I knew Albus would never replace you," Harry said smartly, tipping his hat to the headmaster with a flourish as the man walked past them. "Where have you been hiding, Hagrid?"

Hagrid blinked, but then shook his head. "'Ad a coupl'a things to do outta th' country. 'M just glad ta be back fer th' start a th' year. Matter a fact, some Aurors are bringin th' firs' years 'cross th' lake."

"Wonderful!" Harry exclaimed, giving a brilliant smile and straightening the front of his robes. "This year shall be excellent, don't you think? We must have lunch, Hagrid, soon. Catch up on old times!"

"Er, yea', sure, 'Arry," Hagrid said, eyeing Harry up and down. "Whate'er you say. Er, nice robes."

Harry preened slightly. "Thanks! Had them specially made in France. I can tell you all about it when you have a chance."

"All righ', 'Arry," replied Hagrid, smiling and shrugging his large shoulders. Though he looked piercingly into Harry's eyes, he seemed content, otherwise, not to notice Harry's affectations.

At Albus' gesture from behind the Head Table, both wizards made their way to their seats, Hagrid on one end, and Harry to the left of the headmaster. Besides Harry sat a rather disgusted Potions master, and looking toward the headmaster, Harry could understand his reaction.

Albus and Harry made quite the pair, the latter in his interesting clothes, and the headmaster in a fairly vile outfit of sickly green robes dotted with pink-purple stars that moved in dizzying patterns every time the man moved. Harry changed his snort of laughter to a cough as he looked at the black-clothed Snape, who was pointedly staring straight ahead or towards his godson next to his other side rather than look at Harry and Albus.

After a moment, sounds began coming from beyond the front hall; Minerva left her chair and went through the hall to greet the students and collect the first years. The staff fell silent as they waited, and a few seconds later, the Hall doors swung wide. Madly chattering students made their way in, looking around them with their usual bright, happy expressions as they took in the Great Hall once again. The dark times they were all suffering fell to the wayside as unimportant for at least a little while.

As several of the teenagers looked across the Head Table, they spotted Harry easily, and the noise level increased dramatically as they pointed him out to their peers. Wryly, he wondered if they'd ever been told that it was rude to do that.

It didn't take long for them to get to their House tables and take their seats, but it was enough time to see why Snape scowled at the lot of students. Between the noise and the staring, Harry found he much preferred being in a complete meeting of the Praesidium, who knew better than to annoy him, than in the large, echoing Great Hall as it filled.

Finally, the tall figure of McGonagall appeared in the doorway, and she started up the middle of the room, followed by the rather tiny forms of the first years. The looks on their faces were priceless, and a wave of nostalgia washed over Harry, for once bringing good memories instead of bad. Shaking aside his flight of fancy, Harry kept his smile inane and observed the newest students with a careful eye.

It wasn't difficult to pick out the Muggle-born children, not with their almost scared expressions, but Harry was more interested in seeing whether any of the students would turn out to be trouble makers. When he caught sight of a small band of swaggering, clean-cut boys, he knew he'd found them. Looking over the rest, he realized that the group was smaller than the amount he'd expected.

That was fixed when, just as McGonagall reached the front stage, a dripping wet, teal haired woman jogged in through the doors, followed by about eight equally sopping children. Slowing to a more sedate pace, Tonks gave a slightly abashed smile and led the students to their other year-mates.

"Sorry about that, Professor Dumbledore, McGonagall," Tonks apologized. "Took a little longer than I thought to get everyone out of the lake."

"And why were they in the water?" asked McGonagall, her stern expression masking the laughter in her eyes.

"Boat capsized," Tonks explained, flushing. "I don't know why."

Minerva shook her head as several people snickered. "Of course. Well, thank you, Auror Tonks. Students, gather around."

As the young witches and wizards did so, Tonks walked back to the front of the Hall, standing to the side of the doors. A beat later, several other adults stepped in beside her and stood still. Harry glanced toward Dumbledore, who merely smiled toward the newcomers, then focussed back on the first years.

McGonagall had gone over to the corner to retrieve what was needed as the students waited with nervous anticipation. Suddenly, the staff heard her gasp, and everyone leant over to look down the table. As she turned to them, they saw her holding a stool, with her empty hand held out away from her body. Setting the stool down with a clank, she strode swiftly behind the table and bent down next to the headmaster.

"Minerva, what ever is wrong?" Albus asked in concern.

Looking down toward the children, then at Albus, she kept her voice low. "The Hat is gone."

"What do you mean?" questioned Albus, his expression changing to confusion. The staff members glanced at one another.

"The Sorting Hat has disappeared, Albus," Minerva explained quietly.

Albus sat back in his chair. "I placed it on the stool before the Feast myself. Surely if it's not there, it must be close by. Perhaps it fell."

"No, you misunderstand," Minerva sighed. "It disappeared, while I was picking it up. Just vanished."

"Could this be some type of prank?" Snape questioned irritably, leaning past Harry to address the older professors.

Albus raised an eyebrow, then turned back to Minerva. "Did it say anything?" he asked. At her confused look, he added, "The Sorting Hat, did it say anything?"

McGonagall blinked, then nodded. "I distinctly heard it say 'I won't do it', then it vanished."

"I was worried about this," Albus murmured thoughtfully, ignoring the confounded expressions of his staff and the increasing agitation of the students below.

"Worried about what, Headmaster?" Snape asked, still leaning around Harry.

"The Hat has been complaining about its job of late," answered Dumbledore, stroking his beard. "It said it had no wish to do it any more."

Down the table a short way, Ron snorted. "Are you saying the Sorting Hat went on strike?"

Albus chuckled and looked over the puzzled expressions on most of the staff. "You are a good Muggle Studies professor, Ronald, you've successfully confused most of the others. But no, I believe the Hat just has no wish to take part in separating the students."

"How can a Hat refuse, Albus? Are you saying it disappeared of its own accord?" Minerva was flustered.

"We can talk about it later," Albus responded. "The students are getting anxious."

"What are we to do about the students?" asked Minerva in a clipped tone.

"I have made a plan for this–"

"You knew?"

"I had an idea," Albus corrected, then stood. "Students, it appears that the sorting shall have to wait until tomorrow." There was a startled outcry, but the students quieted when Dumbledore raised his hands. "Now, now, for tonight, first years please sit where you wish. I ask the older students to welcome them. A separate dormitory has been arranged for all first years, just for tonight. Please sit."

There was a slight commotion as the youngest found seats at the various tables. It was interesting to Harry to see where they sat, as it indicated where they assumed they'd be. He wondered how many were right. Turning to look at the other teachers, he saw McGonagall take her seat with a perplexed expression. Most of the others had the same look, except for the ones who knew how to cover their emotions. Snape had sat back in his seat and was conversing in low tones with Malfoy, his face a mask.

Harry straightened the front of his robes and lounged back as though unconcerned with any of what had transpired. As it was, he was trying to figure out how he could get any information from Dumbledore without the older wizard knowing it.

Albus had remained standing, and addressed the now seated students. "Thank you. Now, as for start of term announcements, the Forbidden Forest is just that, forbidden. Even to seventh years. Let's remember this, shall we? Mr Filch wished me to mention that a list of everything prohibited in the halls has grown to twelve feet, and is available to be perused at your leisure. No knowledge is no excuse for breaking the rules.

"As to nicer subjects, we have two new professors joining us this year! May I have a warm welcome to Professor Malfoy, who will be teaching Arithmancy?" Polite applause broke out as Malfoy stood and inclined his head, as well as whispers as to who he was. "And our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is Professor Potter."

For a moment the hall fell silent, and Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes as he stood. Smiling brightly, he swept his hat off his head and bowed with a flourish of his hand. Snape had to jerk away to avoid being hit. Rising, Harry replaced his cap and seemed to bask in the cheers that rose from the students.

Harry sat back down as Albus finally lifted his hands once more for quiet. "Also, we will be host to a small group of Aurors, as you can see. The Minister feels that this would help increase safety. Please show them your respect." Another wave of whispering, but it died quickly. "Well, that should be all. The Sorting will take place tomorrow at dinner. First years have the day off from classes." Cheers sounded from those students, as well as grumbles from the older years. "If you would, then, tuck in!"

The tables swiftly filled with food. It seemed that the house-elves had quite outdone themselves, and Harry grinned as he took a deep swallow of pumpkin juice. The noise level rose and fell as the students ate, but was generally quieter than earlier.

"So, Potter," Malfoy said, bending down to look past Snape. "Bet you loved that."

Harry waved a careless hand as he swallowed a bite of food. "It _was_ a nice greeting, don't you agree?"

Malfoy gaped for a moment, then leaned back. Harry smirked to himself, his humour increasing when he sighted the repulsed expression on the Potions master's face. Turning to Dumbledore, Harry began a conversation about fabrics and prints that lasted most of the meal.

* * *

The first day of classes dawned bright and clear. Harry was up with the sun, running through a couple of exercises in his rooms. He couldn't have Carnifex able to beat him in duelling because he got complacent. Smiling, Harry finished and dressed, deliberately missing breakfast, and made his way to his classroom.

Stepping in, he walked to the desk at the front of the room and looked around. Taking out his wand, he levelled it at the old-fashioned furniture. Muttering a charm, he swept his arm in a circle and encompassed the entire room. As the items surrounding him changed, he nodded, then walked up to his office to wait until the beginning of class.

It wasn't very long before the NEWT level students arrived. As it was an advanced class, it was compiled of all Houses, and they came in groups according to them. Harry stayed back in the doorway of his office to see their reactions.

Walking in, the first bunch of students, Ravenclaws by their robes, stopped in the doorway and looked around before walking slowly in. They gaped as they saw that instead of desks, there was a large, round table in the middle of the room, surrounded by a circular bench. The teacher's desk was nowhere to be found, and the bookshelves that normally stood against the walls were equally absent. In fact, other than the table and bench, the room was completely bare.

By the time the other students had arrived, everyone was looking at each other in confusion. Some of the teenagers questioned whether they should sit down, but no one did.

After a few tense minutes, Harry strode out of his office, quite startling the students.

"Well, hello there, everyone!" Harry exclaimed, laughing inwardly at the blinking he received for his current clothes. "I will ask you now to remove your outer robes and ties, and place them near the door. Then sit down at the table. Well, what are you waiting for? Get to it."

* * *

A/N: Hope everyone is enjoying the story. Let me know what you think. Feel free to suggest things you might want to see, it helps feed my muse, and I may just use it. 

Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers!

Now, just as a little guide, here are the names of aliases and/or OCs thus far:

(Aliases - True name if known - Type)

Artemis - Witch  
Ateraes - Harry - Wizard (unnecessary, I know)  
Bruti - Wizard  
Carnifex - Raphael - Vamp  
Gloriae - Veela  
Laminae - Warrior-elf  
Suralc - Wizard

Note- Some are no more than extras, whereas some are/will be more important.

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,

Zenn


	14. The Lessons Of

Yes, I'm aware that it's been almost a year, but I have not abandoned this or my other story. RL has had a vice grip on me, and therefore I decided to work on these without posting for a while, so when I did post, it wouldn't be left so long. I haven't completed this yet, but I can guarantee that it won't be left like it was. I apologize for the wait.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen - The Lessons Of**

The shuffle of students was noisy as they all went to follow the professor's instruction. Harry had to smirk at the bemused expressions most wore. Though he projected a vaguely disinterested attitude, Harry was careful to watch how they interacted with one another, and to see which students were likely to be of concern. He could tell the trustful students from those more weary, as the latter found more secure areas to place their belongings.

Finally, all of the class of fifteen had sat themselves at the large oak table, and were looking at Harry curiously. He took his time making his way toward them, letting his cape swing impressively. He had to stop himself shaking his head when he noticed a couple girls sighing. Suddenly a vision of that professor he'd had- Lockhart- was sparked in his mind.

Forcing himself to ignore the fact that he was acting disturbingly like the old fraud, Harry reminded himself that at least he had something to teach the students. Now, all he had to do was figure out how to do so all year without giving too much away. He suddenly wished he was training the Praesidium, because at least he knew how to handle them. Even the Vampyrs, who were a rather vicious species to begin with. Teenagers were just another matter entirely. Especially as he couldn't challenge them to a duel if they didn't listen. Or just curse them into behaving. Sighing inwardly, he stepped up to the bench the students sat on.

"All right!" Harry exclaimed, coming around to side of the table nearest the window. "What a day, what a day! Now, if you could budge up just a bit? Great."

Harry sat on the bench at the spot they had made for him, smiling winsomely. Placing his hands flat on the table, he looked around.

"Okay, is everyone here, then?"

The students glanced at each other. A few nods and shakes of the head were given to him, as well as a couple of confused shrugs.

"Well, shouldn't you know?"

A small girl with a mane of blond hair hesitated, then raised her hand. "Isn't it your job to know?"

Harry shook his head with a smile. "No, my job is to teach those who are here. It's everyone else's job to make sure you and everyone else shows up.

"Next time, remember that," Harry said. "On to business. Names?" He looked to the student beside him.

After a moment, the boy said, "Harvey Joh–"

"No last names, silly boy!" Harry admonished. "I'm not here to be introduced to your family!"

"Er . . . right," replied Harvey, his voice showing some baffled hesitation.

"Next!" Harry called.

"Hypermestra Mi . . . er, Hypermestra."

"Heraelle."

"Ramnes."

Names were said around the table, some quickly, others more slowly, as though the students were trying to figure out what was going on. Harry nodded congenially to each person, inwardly cataloguing how each responded. He hoped it would make it easier to teach them.

Once done, Harry grinned. "Excellent. Now, according to Hogwarts rules, I am to be addressed as Professor, as pedestrian as that sounds. But, what can you do? Also, in this room there are no House points, only marks, which will be part of your final grade. Understood? Great. Enough of that, let's get on with it."

Harry clapped his hands abruptly, making several students jump. There was a quick flash in the middle of the table, and atop it a large pile of puzzle pieces appeared. The class murmured, then quieted as Harry waved his wand, spreading the pieces across the wood.

"Your task this class period is to complete this puzzle, without magic. Together," Harry added, noticing the eager faces of the Ravenclaws and the affronted faces of the rest. "Have fun."

Harry stepped out from his position on the bench, ignoring the varying looks being shot his way. It seemed that he had at least confused them enough that no one was questioning him outright, but that could only last so long. Giving them another grin, Harry quickly escaped into his office. Safely contained, he muttered a subtle monitoring charm, creating a one-way mirror out of his door. It had the added bonus of allowing sound through quite clearly.

The students began muttering to one another, darting glances around the room, as though searching for the trick. Harry distinctly caught the phases 'what the hell' and 'is he bloody for real'. Chuckling, he sat on the edge of his desk and propped his feet on the visitor's chair, settling in.

In the room, the class was getting edgy. A couple of them had touched parts of the puzzle, only to have the pieces glow briefly, before they dropped them. Looking around, two sets of the students took out their wands, four on either side of the table. It was fairly apparent they were suspicious of both the puzzle task and each other, and by the glares that covered their faces when they looked at one another, it was obvious which houses claimed their loyalties.

Though one of the witches, a dark-haired girl Harry remembered had said her name was Heraelle, was one of the students who pulled her wand, she rolled her eyes at the others' animosity.

"You know we won't get anything done by cursing each other," she admonished, an exasperated look on her pale face. "And the professor said no magic."

"As if you care about rules, you filthy Slytherin," scathed one of the boys opposite the table, Marco, he'd said. "What are you– Teacher's little pet?"

As several of her peers snickered, Heraelle shook her head. "Is that the best you can come up with, _Gryffindor_? Very witty. And anyway, if I remember the facts right, the professor was a Gryffindor when he was a student, so it'd be more likely that you'd be the pet."

It was almost funny how all of the Gryffindors narrowed their eyes at the same time. Harry hoped he hadn't been as idiotic as those students when he was in school, but unfortunately knew the truth.

Marco sneered, "Why, I oughtta–"

"Learn how to speak proper English?" Heraelle responded sweetly, a smirk twitching her lips. "I know it must be hard for a person of your rather impaired intelligence."

Marco was a somewhat burly, tall young man, and it was amusing to see him try to push out from the table and bench in a hurry, his blond hair flying wildly with his jerky attempts. Finally pulling free, he stood, one hand holding his wand, and the other straightening his robes. Turning, he sent a glare toward Heraelle, only to find she and the other Slytherins had left their seats.

"I certainly hope," said Heraelle loudly, as she walked to the classroom door, "that you don't think I'm staying here to get in a fight in a class even the professor walked out of."

It was clear that she meant for Harry to hear it in his office, even without any charm, and he watched as she summoned her robe and tie, and slipped out the door. The band of Slytherins following grabbed their items and walked out behind her. Harry let them go, a floating quill behind his back placing a mark beside their names on the roster.

The remaining students looked at each other for a moment. Quietly, Marco reclaimed his seat, and the others spread out on the Slytherins' bench area, taking that as a plan to stay.

"So," began a dark-skinned boy, Ethan, from next to Marco. "What should we do? Should we try this puzzle?"

"But it's cursed," another wizard stated apprehensively.

"Maybe it's a charm?" asked another.

"The professor wouldn't leave something that would harm us," a witch chimed in. "Would he?"

"Maybe that's the test, to un-curse it," Ethan said eagerly.

"Yeah, right," answered Marco. "That pomp of a teacher probably doesn't know how to curse things, the great Man-Who-Vanquished-Voldemort or not. Anything on this stupid puzzle is just for show. Come on, let's do this and leave."

The rest of the class glanced nervously around at the boy's words, but when no angry professor appeared, they nodded and set to work. For several minutes, the class concentrated on the puzzle, but it was clear that only the apparent Ravenclaws were enjoying it, the others were just hoping to get out of class early.

Near the end of the hour, with about half the puzzle done, Harry stepped out of his office, but stayed out of sight. The students were still working, and several looked annoyed and bored. Just as they managed to complete the entire outside of the puzzle, it glowed red and suddenly the pieces all jumped apart. The shocked students stared for a moment.

Before they could say anything, Harry strode up to the table. "Well, now, how is it going?" he asked, startling the young men and women further. "Tut, tut, have you not done anything?"

"Of course we have!" Marco exclaimed, glaring toward Harry. "This thing just came apart."

"And why would it do that?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know! It's cursed or something!" answered Marco.

"Really?" Harry said, leaning over it and shaking his head. "And I had thought the only curse I put on it was just for show."

Marco shut his mouth rapidly, looking nervously at his professor. Harry merely shook his head at the puzzle once more, then looked over the students with a calm expression. They all seemed anxious.

"All right, the class is about over," Harry said mildly. "Collect your belongings, and you may go."

It took a moment for the class to follow his directions, and as they did, they were quiet and shot him strange looks. Harry stood watching them, his expression never changing until all were out the door. A small Hufflepuff clutching her robe and sending him an apologetic look was the last to leave. After the young witch, Harry waved the door shut and glanced down at the table.

"That certainly was less . . . chaotic than it could have been," he muttered. "On to the next."

The rest of Harry's day didn't vary overly much, other than a small, fierce fight that erupted in the third year Gryffindor and Slytherin class. That he mostly blamed on himself, as he had forgotten just how unruly that age could get. He had given the puzzle to every one of his classes, and none yet had figured out how to do it without it coming apart, though at least the fifth year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs made an effort to guess why.

Though he also made every class remove their House colours, Harry still could distinctly see what they were. None of the Houses could work perfectly well together, nor did they try. And until they learned, the puzzle couldn't be solved.

All in all, Harry's favourite class was the free period that would later be taken by the first years. Even though all he did was paperwork, at least he didn't have to endure babysitting feisty teenagers or hearing them bad-mouth him from the other room. It was frustrating not being able to get back at the little cretins. He was starting to gain a whole new appreciation of McGonagall's stern attitude and Snape's methods of terror. Harry knew better than to think he could change the children in one day, but he certainly hoped they'd learn fast, now that he had somewhat of an idea on how best to teach them.

He hadn't bothered going to lunch, so he was looking forward to dinner. Just before he was due in the Great Hall, Harry flooed to his quarters and changed his robes. The set he put on were in an overly cheery peach, similar to the colour the sun gained just before it set, and just when if you looked too long, you'd get a headache. With a grimace, Harry vowed not to look down, and grabbed the feathered cap that matched.

He made it to the Hall surprisingly early and went to his seat, blithely ignoring the sneers on both Snape's and Malfoy's faces. Sitting down at his place beside the Potions master, Harry greeted the headmaster and McGonagall, and watched the other teachers as they arrived. Hagrid gave him a wave, which Harry returned in kind as he reminded himself to go visit his old friend.

Ron and Hermione were the last to rush in, Hermione practically dragging Ron by the sleeve of his robe and hissing at him about making her late. While somewhat red in the face, Ron wisely kept his silence. Harry snickered to himself, even if he was surprised that Ron was almost late to a meal. _Some things do change_, he thought, watching the two reach their seats, and Hermione straighten Ron's robe before sitting down. _But not too much, I see._

The Hall doors swung open, admitting the students who appeared in clumps of their various years and Houses. As soon as most were seated, the small first years came in, ushered by a couple of Aurors, who took their places near the door as they had yesterday. Harry noticed that there was a fewer amount than the day before, and assumed the others were patrolling the grounds, or something similar. He realized that he would need to familiarize himself with them and their movements quickly.

All eyes turned to the headmaster as he stood. "Good evening, everyone," Albus said, his eyes as bright as ever. "I'm sure that you are all anxious to begin the meal, but there is the business of our delayed Sorting to deal with first. I ask that you all bear with me."

There were a couple of half-hearted groans at this announcement, but it seemed that most of the students were as interested in the Sorting as the nervous first years, who had remained standing in the middle of the hall. Dumbledore waved them forward, and with the Aurors' help, arranged them before the Head Table, facing the professors.

"Now," continued Albus, "we have not yet been able to persuade the Hat to return to its job, so therefore your Heads of Houses and myself have determined another method in which to Sort you. It is a spell that hasn't been used since Godric Gryffindor first surrendered his hat, so it is quite a treat to use it now."

Turning to McGonagall, he nodded and the deputy headmistress stood beside him, removing her wand. He glanced at the other Heads, and all stood, pulling their own wands. Harry noticed several of the first years glancing up with worried expressions, and those that were looking at Snape looked just plain terrified.

As the Potions master shifted, his robe brushed Harry's arm, and Harry jerked away quickly. Snape raised an eyebrow, then narrowed his eyes, but wasn't in a position to comment, as Dumbledore lifted his wand, muttering quietly.

A swirling cloud of indiscriminate colour issued from the headmaster's wand and condensed above the first years, all of whom watched it, awe-struck. The entire Hall was attentive, and Harry was no exception. He'd read about this in Hogwarts: A History, which Hermione had finally made him read in Seventh Year, but hadn't really thought about it since.

Dumbledore fell silent, nodding to McGonagall.

"_De nobilis_ _fortitudo_," Minerva stated calmly, flicking her wand upwards. A shot of light burst from the tip of her wand and flew into the cloud.

Madam Sprout spoke next, adding her light to the cloud. "_De nundinae operae_."

"_De intellegentis ingenium_," said Professor Flitwick, following suit.

"_De astutus ambitio_," Snape smoothly finished, a small smirk on his lips.

As the last wand light hit the cloud, it began twisting. Harry watched as all of the House colours became visible within it, mixing with one another and then separating. With a last twist and a bright flash, the cloud flew apart, settling above each of the first years according to colour.

Approximately one-fourth of the students were highlighted in a spiral of red and gold. The rest of the children were distributed fairly evenly between the other houses, though Harry noticed with surprise that Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff had all received the same number, while Slytherin gained two more than the rest.

It was obvious that not all of the newest students were happy with their placements, having gotten other than what they had assumed, but overall, the majority were where expected. Dumbledore smiled and gestured for the Aurors to usher them to their seats. Harry realized as the Aurors did so and headed for their posts, that they must be a part of the Order for their willingness to follow the headmaster's directions so easily.

Once everyone was settled, Albus gave another smile. "Please make our newest additions welcome. Now it is time to eat. Tuck in!"

Three days later, most of Harry's classes were no further to completing the puzzle, though surprisingly the first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws actually got the edges together without it jumping apart, even if they didn't understand why. Of the older years, the NEWT level Slytherins stopped being bothered to show up altogether, and the other students were getting increasingly edgy. Deciding they were prime for a change, Harry swept into the classroom the next day with a smirk on his face.

"Morning!" Harry chirped brightly, in sharp contrast to the students' glazed over expressions. "Fine day, isn't it? It's almost as if it was planned. I have something exciting arranged."

Several students glanced with amazement at one another around their circular table. The rain outside beat the windows, and the temperature was several degrees colder than it should be. Harry heard a mixture of exasperated sighs and distinctly saw quite a few eye rolls.

"Are we going to play with blocks today, Professor?" Marco questioned, a sickly-sweet smile on his face. Looking at Harry's clothes, he added, "Or do we get to sit around and braid each other's hair? That would be _brilliant_."

Clenching his jaw through his grin, Harry stepped up to table, smoothing his pink over-robe on his thigh as he placed a foot up on the bench, and tipped back his matching wizard's cap. It was clear the students were becoming overly bold, and that Harry was not currently considered an authority figure. The sniggers that the Gryffindor's statement brought forth died down as Harry merely bent slightly over, placing his elbow on his knee, and fixed his gaze on the cocky Marco.

"As much as I'm sure you'd _love_ to run your fingers through your friends' hair, my dear boy," Harry answered with the same tone, "I'm afraid you'll just have to do that on your own time. I really don't want to hear about your proclivities."

Several of the students giggled in surprise as Marco blustered angrily, his tanned skin colouring red. His smirk returning, Harry pushed away from the bench and strode over to the door.

"I'll ask you to take your sarcasm outside. Now." At the boy's stunned look, Harry nodded. "Yes, out of the classroom. Everyone, in fact. Get up. We're going on a little outing."

As he walked out the door, a Ravenclaw spoke up. "You're not kicking us out? You're taking us somewhere?"

"Obviously," Harry replied, stepping out to the hall. Over his shoulder, he added, "Leave your cloaks and ties, and come on."

Without looking back, Harry started down the passageway with a quick stride, listening to the noise behind him as the students rushed after him. Ignoring their mutterings, he continued along, down several flights of stairs, reaching the lower levels of the castle. He noticed that some of the students faltered as they entered Slytherin territory, but his pace kept them from questioning it.

Reaching an expanse of bare wall, Harry stopped abruptly, smirking when the students ran into one another alongside him. Muttering under his breath, the stone door concealing the Slytherin common room entrance slid open. Harry glanced back at the openmouthed students as he started in, gesturing for them to follow. It was clearly against their better judgements, but they did so.

"What is this!" The group slowed to a halt as an angry voice called out in the echoing underground room. "Potter, why am I not surprised?"

Crossing his arms, Harry watched Malfoy stride over. "Is there a problem, Professor Malfoy?"

"I should say so," Malfoy answered, his eyes narrowed. "What made you think it was all right to bring students from other houses, not to mention yourself, in here?"

Glancing back, Harry concealed a snicker at the gaping students. "What made you so certain, so quickly, that these weren't of your noble house?"

Malfoy sneered. "I know my own students, Potter, not to mention that no Slytherins would go anywhere with those sickening expressions of stupefaction on their faces."

"No, you do prefer haughty snobbery," Harry answered, hearing the angry mutterings of his class, "but I digress. We are hear to retrieve some long-lost fellows. As a matter of fact, there they are. Excellent. Heraelle, Antony, there you are. Malfoy, you probably have class, I'll let you go."

Walking blithely past the steaming blond, Harry bid his students to him. With a last sneer of 'this better not take long,' Malfoy swept out of the entrance hole, most likely bound to complain to Slytherin's head of house. Imagining that confrontation, Harry bit back a smile. The students had seen quite enough animosity between their professors for one day, no need to treat them to any more.

"Antony, I'll ask you to gather Ramnes and Dolon, immediately," Harry ordered, the slightest bite to his voice that only the ever watchful Slytherins could hear. As soon as the others had joined them, Harry continued, "I believe that as this is my class period, you four are supposed to be with this class. Dispose of your cloaks and ties. Now, all of you follow me."

With that, Harry strode calmly out of the Slytherin common room, completely ignoring all of the few other Slytherins watching the entire commotion. Stopping at a set of stairs, Harry saw with satisfaction that his entire class had followed, including the wayward ones. With a nod, Harry turned and walked up the stairs, then down a passageway to an outer door.

Harry stopped in the doorway, looking out, and waved his wand. Immediately, each of the students held a plain black robe, marked with only the Hogwarts crest on the front.

"Come now," Harry ordered, then walked straight out into the rain. "Hurry up, and follow me, no talking. This will affect your grade."

The pounding of the rain quickly wilted Harry's wizard cap, and he distinctly hoped it was beyond saving. The students behind him were definitely not as amiable to the driving water, but it was loud enough that Harry barely caught any of their mutterings and after a while they fell silent as they struggled to keep pace with their professor over the slippery grounds.

As the class neared the gates, they swung open soundlessly without any visible prompting. Harry didn't hesitate to walk through them and down the path towards Hogsmeade, waving forward the wary students. They followed, angrily pushing back increasingly wet hair and brushing rain out of their eyes.

Reaching the edge of the wizarding village, Harry turned and skirted the edge instead of following the main street. As he left the village proper, the mutterings from his shadows renewed, though it wasn't until it was clear where he was headed that they made themselves heard.

"Professor, what are you doing?" Marco yelled above the rain, a thoroughly disgruntled look on his face.

"Heading to the Shrieking Shack, Marco, as you can see," Harry answered over his shoulder, continuing onwards with a smug smile. "Come along."

Quickening his pace, Harry managed to outrace the rest of the students' exclamations, and they had nothing for it but to follow after him. Pulling up to the edge of the stairs, Harry motioned the teenagers to stop.

"Now, wait here a moment, I'll just run inside and make sure the floor is sound. I couldn't have anything happen to you, now could I?" Harry stated loudly, watching worried expressions cross the students' faces. Slightly quieter, as though to himself, he said, "The headmaster wouldn't be too happy. I suppose I probably should have cleared this through him. Oh, well, too late now."

With a smile, Harry turned quickly and walked up the creaking stairs. As he stepped into through a doorway with its door hanging halfway off its hinges, Harry saw the students' wide-eyed looks. Allowing a quick snicker, Harry walked fully into what would have been a large parlour, had half of the far wall not been smashed across the floor. Turning back to the door, completely out of view of the teenagers, Harry screamed.

Outside, the students' heads jerked toward the shack, several gasping at the yell from inside the building. Yanking out their wands, some ran forward, only to be stopped by others.

"What the hell are you doing!" Heraella yelled, jerking both Marco and Ethan back from the front door. "Wait til you know what's in there! Shut up!" she continued when they would have argued. "Dolon, run back to the school, get someone, preferably Professor Snape. The rest of you wait here. Even you, Gryffindors. Lumos."

Elbowing past the large Marco, who was glaring at her, Heraella peeked around the doorframe, only to jump at a yell from behind. Wheeling around, the three students on the stairs watched as a line of fire around the perimeter of the grounds came directly towards the group, preventing any from going any way but up toward the building. The rest of the students ran up the stairs as the fire continued on, circling the building and continuing toward them.

"And just what do you suggest now, eh!" Marco demanded in a rough voice, as they backed into the wall of the house, watching the flames leap onto the porch.

* * *

A/N: I'll say now that probably wasn't worth a year's wait, but hopefully it won't matter once the story is updated regularly. Any flames as to the wait will be nonconductive to anything, though I suppose that flames, by definition, are nonconductive in general. At any rate, if anyone was interested as to the whys and wherefores of my delay and my life, check out my livejournal, which is set as my homepage. 

Now, I hope that some of you did at least enjoy this and are eager to see it play through. I give my thanks for your patience and my welcome to any new readers. I'm glad to be back.

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,

Zenn

Rough translations:  
_De nobilis_ _fortitudo - _Of noble bravery  
_De nundinae operae - _Of fair labor  
_De intellegentis ingenium - _Of intelligent wit  
_De astutus ambitio - _Of cunning ambition


End file.
